Of Lemon Drops, Transfiguration and Ribbons
by Welsh Gem
Summary: Minerva McGonagall's years through Hogwarts, one month at a time. Severe MMAD, features TR, rated for safty. Contains a phoenix, Grindlewald, star-crossed lovers, jealous Riddle, a missing cat, lemon drops, glasses, books, Chamber of Secrets, attacks, Christmas parties, lies, love and much, much more.
1. First September

September- Sorting Hat

"McGonagall, Minerva."

Minerva's stomach did around three flips as she gingerly crept forward. The stiff soles of her shoes clicked against the stone flooring, the hem of her robes gently swaying around her ankles. Her palms became sweaty as she carefully climbed the small steps towards the stool that await her.

Hesitantly, she sat down. The stool creaked; the old wood was rickety. Suddenly, Minerva's sight vanished as the ancient hat was placed on her head. It did not sit on her crown but slip over her forehead and covered her emerald eyes. The smell of dust and withering cloth was over powering; Minerva suddenly felt claustrophobic. There was a pregnant pause before a raspy voice whispered into Minerva's ear:

_Ah...interesting...very interesting..._

A shudder ran down Minerva's spine and her nimble fingers gripped the edge of the stool so tightly, her knuckles turned white. She dusty scent was making her nose twitch with irritation and her eyes were shut tightly.

_Very intelligent, possibly the best of the year...a fine brain you have..._

Minerva wasn't sure if she should be afraid or take it as a compliment. The hat seemed safe and dangerous in all one go, leaving Minerva feeling a mixture of fear and shelter.

_High in wisdom, you have buckets full of it...witty, no doubt about that...you will do well in Ravenclaw..._

Gleefully, Minerva almost let out a sigh of relief. The hat must have been coming to a decision. Only a few seconds before she could take it off and leave it behind-

_ ..but..._

Minerva's heart stopped.

_You have a great amount of courage...so brave, so brave...you have nerve too...you would also do well in Gryffindor...where to put you? _

Gripping the stool, Minerva's whole body tensed.

_...what do you think?_

Minerva's eyes snapped open, only to be irritated by the dust and watered. Her lips parted but no sound came out. Her palms were drenched in sweat_. P-p-pardon?_

_Which house would you like to go into?_

The hat had asked her a question which she had no answer to. Minerva fidgeted on her stool, wishing that she could just vanish into thin air. Despite not being able to see them, she knew all eyes were on her and she hated it. Closing her eyes, Minerva answered:

_I-I'm not sure. I don't really mind,_ she answered. _But thank you for asking._

The hat chuckled. _How polite. Is your mother Isobel Ross, by any chance_?

_Yes, she is. She told me she was a Ravenclaw,_ Minerva replied.

_I remember Isobel. So clever, so ambitious, so brave...she did well in Ravenclaw but I'm afraid, my girl, that as much as you are like your mother, there's some more to you...more Gryffindor yet a Ravenclaw...how tricky...what about your father?_

_He is a Muggle,_ Minerva replied in her mind. Stomach in her shoes, she tried to calm her fright. She felt embarrassed about this, why was she so difficult?

_Would you like to follow your mother's footsteps?_

Another question without an answer. Minerva clenched her hands around the stool edge. _Mother said,_ she thought, _that she would love me no matter what house I'm in. Honestly, I don't care which house I am part of, as long as my Mother cares for me. _Minerva gulped. _I want to be like Mother but I also want to be someone different, not a complete carbon copy. _

The hat remained silent. Minerva could hear a soft mutter of the crowd. The hat sighed.

_Your mother never gave straight answers either, it chuckled. Ah well, it looks like I've finally come to a decision...better be:_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hall exploded with cheers so deafening, Minerva almost thought that the school had actually blew up. The dusty hat was lifted from her head before she could finish her 'thank you'. Sighing with relief that it was over, she jumped up from the stool and hurried over to the long table dressed in gold and scarlet banners. She received a few pats on the shoulder as she sat down, her hands still shaking from her five and a half minutes hatstall.


	2. First October

**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS, I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Right, I'm currently going through a Harry Potter faze (again) and it always winds up back to the this pairing (MMAD). Writing this fanfic has become addictive; seriously, when I should be doing homework, I'm bloody writing! I've written all the way up to Minerva's second year December. Despite having a long way to go, I've alrady got plans for each month. **

**KEEP REVIEWING BECAUSE THERE'S A LEMON DROP FOR YOU ALL! **

October- Halloween

After the first two months, Minerva had settled down into Hogwarts nicely. She had finally learnt her way around the castle, already reached the top of her class and became a familiar face in the school library. Despite never knowing about her magic abilities until she got her Hogwarts letter, Minerva had aced all of her classes flawlessly, finding that magic spells would work for her easily. All by herself, she had earned her house nearly fifty points alone by answering questions and completely brilliant essays with flourish handwriting. However, she had still yet to make friends with her classmates.

She only ever talked to her classmates during pair work or when they requested help with their work. She did gladly aid them but refused point blank to allow them to copy from her work directly. During break times, she vanished into the deep pages of books while either curled up in the cozy dormitory or in the library. She socialized very little and preferred the smooth pages of books that taught her much more than she knew. As she grew up as a Muggle, Minerva never knew about things like Quidditch or other simple things all wizards and witches were aware about. While she plunged her mind to the thick books from the school library, Minerva learnt more than she ever did in her entire life.

Lessons were enjoyable, but especially Transfiguration. Minerva found herself especially talented at the subject, successfully turning any object placed in front of her into whatever her teacher required within her first or with few attempts. She loved the subject so much, Minerva made sure we was first to enter the class and last to leave.

During the lesson on Halloween, Minerva entered the classroom to not find the matchsticks and needles they were previously working on but to find Professor Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor and Head of Minerva's House, standing in the middle of the class with a childish grin on his face.

After the class had settled into their seats, Dumbledore stood at the head of the room. His azure eyes were twinkling brightly. "I have a special treat for you all today," He announced. "Firstly, I want you all to pair up!"

As friends scrambled to grasp their other friends' sleeve, Minerva sat alone in the back, waiting to see whoever was left to be paired with. The boy she sat next to tugged her sleeve to gain her attention.

"Can I pair with you?" He asked meekly. Minerva's face lit up like a Christmas tree and she nodded enthusiastically. The boy grinned. "I'm Jason, by the way. Jason Naugts."

"I'm Minerva McGonagall." Minerva introduced herself and the pair shook hands as a welcoming.

"What do you suppose Dumbledore has in for us?" He asked as they focused their attention to the front of the class. Minerva shrugged, clueless. As soon as the class settled into an amount of ten pairs, Dumbledore's grin widened.

"Around the class," He started. "I have hidden twenty different sweets and transfigured them into various objects. In your pairs, you must find these objects and transfigure them back into their previous forms by using a simple spell I shall tell you in a few seconds. Once each pair finds two sweets each, come and sit at a desk. First pair to find two sweets will get an extra prize and twenty points for each house. Second pair will also get a treat and have ten points for each house. Third pair will gain five points. The rest of you may keep your sweets."

"The spell is a simple spell although on a first try, some of you might find it difficult. Have no fear, after a few tries; I'm sure you all will master it well. Reparifarge is the spell. All of these sweets have only been partly transfigured so there will be hints on the objects to if they are sweets or not." With his eyes twinkling, Dumbledore finished. "Good luck and off you go."

The pairs instantly stood up and started searching around the room while Dumbledore sat at his desks and started writing on a parchment. Jason slowly turned to Minerva.

"Sorry to tell you but, I'm really rubbish at Transfiguration." He mumbled. Minerva shrugged.

"No worries, I think I can do it." She replied and they both started examining the various objects laid out on the desks that Dumbledore had oh so cleverly placed. On the desks and side cupboards there were bottles and jars, matchsticks and buttons, small figurines and chronometers, feather quills and ink bottles, hair brushes and other various small objects. All of them looked fairly normal, apart from a few that were visibly wrong (for example, two pairs of Slytherins were arguing over who should have the tiny cauldron that was painted in purple and yellow stripes.

Jason picked up a small figure of an owl. "What about this?" He asked. Minerva inspected it closely. She raised her wand and muttered the reversing spell. Nothing happened. She tried again. The figure remained a figure. Jason set it back down on the desk. "I guess not."

They attempted reversing two feather quills, which both turned out to be nothing but feather quills, and failed to find a single sweet for twenty minutes. Some pairs by now had at least one sweet.

"Minnie!" Jason cried. Minerva frowned at her nickname but ignored it as she turned away from analysing a chronometer to see Jason waving a locket necklace in his hand. "Look!"

Minerva examined the inside of the locket; her eyes widened when she saw uncharacteristic swirls. Whipping out her wand, Minerva muttered the spell and the locket instantly transformed into a whirly lemon lollipop. Jason whooped with victory and clapped Minerva on the shoulder. "Good going, Jason." Minerva congratulated and handed it to the boy.

"Me? You did the spell!" Jason retorted as he gripped the lollipop tightly.

"You found it." Minerva replied and started analysing more objects.

A few minutes later, she came by a tiny button with white stripes on it and no holes. Curiously, Minerva raised her wand and once again repeated the spell. The button became squidgy and squarer before finally taking the form of a liquorice cube. Triumphantly, she held it high and grabbed Jason by the neck before plopping themselves onto the seats.

"Congratulations, Ms McGonagall and Mr Naugts!" Dumbledore cried. Some students stopped and glanced over before turning back to their objects. Minerva and Jason held out their sweets: A lemon whirl lollipop and a liquorice cube. "Yes, well done indeed. Twenty points each which means forty points for the Gryffindor house."

With a wink, Dumbledore turned and retrieved something from his desk before he offered them to Jason and Minerva. He handed them two large cupcakes, each the size of an average mug, with a large dollop bright red icing and golden flakes. Jason's jaw almost hit the floor when he saw them and gratefully took one. "Thanks' ever so much, sir!" He almost cried as he goggled at the cupcake.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Your very welcome, Mr Naugts. I have large boxes of them back in my quarters, each with the colour of houses."

Minerva took her cupcake. "Thank you, professor." She mumbled shyly. The smell of fresh sponge and sickly icing filled her nose. Dumbledore sustained his usual grin and gave Minerva a quick wink, his eyes sparkling.

"You may eat it if you want." Dumbledore informed them as he moved to congratulate the second place pair of two Slytherins.

Jason almost dived into his cupcake, licking his lips while tasting the sweetness of the icing. Minerva, however, dipped her finger into the icing before gingerly sliding the icing onto her tongue. It was sweet and sickly; the strong taste of cherries erupted into Minerva's mouth. She liked it, despite the fact it made her stomach lurch. The sprinkles broke with a satisfying crunch in her mouth, the sponge was indeed fresh. By the time that Minerva's cupcake was no more than a few crumbs in a wrapper, Jason had already started eating his lollipop. Minerva rolled her eyes.

You know, if you eat too much sweet stuff you'll be sick." She warned.

"I have a strong stomach." Jason retorted with a childish smirk. "Don't you want that liquorice cube?"

Minerva glanced at the black and white striped cube that sat delicately on the desk before her. "I think the cupcake and twenty points is satisfying enough for me." She answered with a small smile. "Besides, I don't like liquorice."

A few minutes later, the lesson had ended and all rushed to the Great Hall for lunch. However, Minerva tagged behind and waited for the class to empty, apart from Professor Dumbledore. Minerva re-entered the classroom, the liquorice cube in her palm.

"Excuse me, professor." She started. Dumbledore turned to her with a smile.

"Ah, Ms McGonagall, how may I help you?"

"I just wanted to give this back." She muttered and placed the cube on Dumbledore's desk.

"Don't you want it?"

Minerva shook her head. "I'm not exactly a big fan of liquorice." She explained and her grip on her satchel tightened.

Dumbledore nodded, understanding. "Well, might as well prepare it for the next class." He smiled and with a wave of his wand, it turned into a black marble figurine of a cat with little white stripes. "Poke it." He commanded.

Without a hesitation, Minerva gently touched it with her finger only to squeal and retract it. "It's squidgy."

"Indeed," Dumbledore grinned. "Now, hurry to lunch. A growing girl needs her meals." And with a pat on the back, Minerva rushed out of the classroom and to lunch.


	3. First November

**Thanks for all of the reviews, mesa love you all! **

November- The Marvellous Mind of Minerva McGonagall

"Does anyone know the purpose of the Knockback Jinx?" Questioned Professor Merrythought. Out of a class of twenty, only one hand shot into the air. "Yes, Ms McGonagall."

"The purpose of the Knockback Jinx is to send objects or small creatures backwards. It can be used against humans as well and can be used to stun creatures, such as gnomes." Minerva explained after taking a large breath of air.

Impressed, Professor Merrythought smiled. "Well done, Ms McGonagall, ten points to Gryffindor." She praised before turning to the rest of the class. "For the next few lessons, we will be looking at the Knockback Jinx and how to use it either against magical creatures or during duels. By next lesson, I want a half-foot essay on the Knockback Jinx and its uses."

Minerva wrote her homework into her diary planner with her flourished writing before packing it into her satchel. The bell rang to declare the end of the lesson and the start of lunch, leading to a wave of students eager to leave the classroom. Minerva lagged behind, pulling out a thick book from her satchel. She mindlessly followed the crowd towards the Great Hall, her nose stuck in her book.

As she arrived at the Great Hall, she took her seat and filled her plate. She continued eating while still reading her book; her eyes never left the printed words. As people around her chatted away with their friends, Minerva kept reading; no one paid any attention to the strange girl reading a book.

Well, all apart from one person.

Albus Dumbledore stared at Minerva as she read her book. A small smile ghosted its way upon his lips as she stabbed a roast potato with her fork and lifted it up to her mouth, not taking her emerald eyes away from the aging pages. She chewed softly, her eyes wide with interest from the wording of the book. While most students took this time to relax and gossip with their friends, here was one student who preferred to read. Dumbledore chuckled as she hardly noticed her roast potato slip from the teeth of her fork. She lifted the fork again to bite her potato but got an awful surprise when she bit hard on solid metal. Her eyes drifted to the floor and she quickly picked up her run away roast potato and dropped it back onto her plate. If anything, her face appeared annoyed that she had to tear her eyes from her beloved book.

"What are you staring at, Albus?" Headmaster Dippet questioned as he caught Dumbledore staring. Dumbledore quickly sat to attention and nibbled on his chicken leg.

"Nothing," He replied.

As the following fifteen minutes trailed by, the Great Hall emptied as the food vanished from the plates and platters. Herds of students left in groups, a few leaving by themselves. However, Minerva remained seated in her spot with her nose stuck in her book.

"I'd best be off," Dippet announced as he stood. "I have a pile of papers in my office to get through."

One by one, the teachers left. Dumbledore remained behind, chewing on a particular sweet. Within moments, there were very few people left in the Great Hall. Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked down the middle aisle. He paused as he approached Minerva, whom was still reading her book.

"Enjoying your book?" He asked. Minerva's head snapped up, her curtain of ebony hair swaying with the movement of her head. She met Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes with her own emerald with a surprised and confused expression on her fresh face. Dumbledore raised an auburn eye brown and nodded to the thick book held within Minerva's gentle hands. "Your book, are you enjoying it?"

"Oh, yes sir." Minerva replied.

"Would you mind if I asked what it's about?"

"Transfiguration, sir." She answered. With expert hands, Minerva held her page with a finger and closed the book, flashing the title to Dumbledore. His lips traced the words: Human Transfiguration. His eyebrows rose.

"It's…surprising to see such a young student reading something that is not taught to her until her third year."

"It's just really interesting, sir; I never knew people could change their appearance so easily." A fire lit within her eyes. "And becoming and actual animal? Can you image that? How brilliant would that be?"

Dumbledore grinned and repressed the urge to laugh at the marvel of the child. "You seem to have quite the interest in Transfiguration." He noted. A soft smile crossed Minerva's features. "You didn't grow up in the wizarding world, I take it?"

"No sir, my father's a Muggle and my mother decided to lock her wand away because we live in a Muggle village so it would be easier to pass of as Muggles. She never told me or my brothers that we are magical just in case we let it slip. She finally told me when I got my letter from Hogwarts." Minerva explained. "I'm trying to get up to speed with everything that I've missed out."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, seeing as you have such a high interest in my subject, I shall sustain high expectations of your essay due in next week."

"Already done, sir." Minerva informed, her eyes shining.

Once again, Dumbledore chortled. "Is it half a foot long?" He asked.

Minerva blushed. "It's around four feet, sir."

Dumbledore's grin grew even wider. "And how big is your writing?"

"From the very words of Professor Slughorn: tiny, sir." Minerva blushed more.

Amused, Dumbledore shook his head. "Ah well, but it's the context that matters. I remember two different students handing me in two essays. One was a foot long and the other doubles its length but however, it was the shorter one that received the higher grade."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir." Minerva smirked.

"I'd better be off," Dumbledore announced. "Enjoy your book, Ms McGonagall."

"Goodbye Professor." Minerva replied and once again sunk into the wonderful words of her thick-as-the-length-of-a-Flobberworm book.

As he left, Dumbledore couldn't help but marvel at Minerva's brilliant mind.


	4. First December

December – Christmas Gift

Much to the dismay of the McGonagalls, young Minerva had decided to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. When she sent the owl to her mother, claiming that she wanted to stay at school, they had sorely replied back that they would miss her and asked her why she preferred Hogwarts. Minerva retorted that she wanted to use the library to her advantage for her large pile of homework. She apologised, sent her love and watched the barn owl fade into the distance.

Nobody else in Minerva's house had signed up to stay at Hogwarts, much to her delight. She had the tower, her dormitory and the common room all to herself with no interruptions from other students passing through. The library would be practically empty and silent so Minerva could do all her work and read in complete silence. She could finally slouch in the arm chair next to the blazing fire while reading a book on Transfiguration.

If anything, she was glad she decided to stay at Hogwarts.

Minerva awoke late on Christmas morning when a light package hit her on the head as the owl flew overhead. Her eyes snapped open and she bolted up into a sitting position. Startled, she glanced around the room before finally calming when she caught sight of the landing owl. It ruffled its tawny and cream feathers before spreading its majestic wings and taking flight. Rubbing her eyes, Minerva peered at the end of her bed. A small pile of packages were laid at the end of her bed.

With a small smile, Minerva picked up the light package and put it with the other presents. She first opened the present her mother sent her via owl, which turned out to be a tartan tin of her favourite Ginger biscuits. Carefully opening them, Minerva took in the scent of the home-made biscuits and took one to nibble on. It was still warm and fresh; the taste of ginger brought back the familiar feeling of home. As she crunched on her biscuits, Minerva opened another package from her friends, Jason. Ever since Halloween, Jason and Minerva paired up in most subjects and had become good friends. She had sent Jason a large spiral lollipop, seeing as he enjoyed his from Halloween.

Jason had sent Minerva a box of Bertie's Every Flavoured Bean, some Chocolate Frogs, a Pumpkin Pasty and a book on famous wizards of the last century. On the note, he wished her a merry Christmas and seeing as she grew up like a Muggle, he thought he'd introduce her to some well-known treats and wizards she ought to know.

Finally, Minerva came to the last present. Firstly, she read the note:

_I thought you might find this to your aid. Merry Christmas,_

_ Prof. Dumbledore._

Minerva's eyebrows rose; Dumbledore had sent her a gift. Feeling guilty that she didn't send him anything, she gently unwrapped the package. Inside was a tiny box. Minerva shook it; nothing rattled from inside. Gingerly, she opened it. Inside was a long, scarlet silk ribbon. Her jaw dropped for a few seconds before, amused, she remembered the conversation they had last week, what probably had led him to giving her this.

_ Snow fell from the overcast sky in the form of little cotton buds. They fell gently, swaying softly in the weak breeze. Minerva sat by the fountain in the Clock Tower Courtyard, an open book on her lap and her ebony hair curtained over her face._

_ "You're quite the reader, Ms McGonagall," Came a voice. Minerva glanced over her shoulder to see Dumbledore leaning against the arch, dressed warmly in a fur coat. "Although, you'd probably catch your death out here in the cold." _

_ "It's quieter, sir." Minerva explained, blinking the snowflakes from her eyelashes. "The Common Room is full, the library's closed and the girls in my dormitory are all giggling about some stupid third year boy in Hufflepuff." _

_ Dumbledore suppressed a chuckle but did not hide a smirk. "You prefer the silence, then." _

_ "Yes sir; no one in their right mind would come out here in this weather; it's far too cold." Minerva pulled her coat around her tighter. _

_ "I guess that makes us the only people in this school insane." Dumbledore grinned. "You know, if Madame Pine was to see you out here, in the cold, she will not be impressed."_

_ "I think she'd have something to say about you being here too, Professor." Minerva bit her lip. "Sorry sir, I spoke out of turn." She apologised._

_ "Not to worry, but you spoke the truth." Dumbledore smiled, slightly amazed at the girl's boldness. _

_ "I won't tell if you won't tell." Minerva offered. Dumbledore laughed heartily. _

_ "It's a deal." He agreed. He watched the snow cover her midnight locks, noticing how her hair fell over her eyes whenever she raised her head. "Doesn't it annoy you?" Minerva glanced up questioningly. Dumbledore pointed to her hair. "You hair? Doesn't it annoy you"_

_ Minerva shrugged. "Sometimes; it never really did annoy me until now. It does tend to get in my way during Potions." She answered and brushed a stray lock behind her ear, only for it to slide back into its original place. "Flying practice is the worst though; my hair just flies all over the place." _

_ Dumbledore chuckled. "You could always ask one of your friends to borrow a ribbon or something." _

_ Minerva's eyes dropped to the floor. "I don't have any friends. Well, no girl ones." _

_ Dumbledore's mouth became an 'o'. An awkward silence fell upon the two, Minerva kept her eyes fixed on the snow covered floor while Dumbledore started humming to himself. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. "I'd better make a move, I still have third year essays to mark. Good day to you, Ms McGonagall." _

_ "Good day, professor." _

_ Dumbledore turned to leave but momentarily stopped. "In case you start feeling a bit feverish later, I advise you to pop down to the kitchens for some hot chocolate. The elves there are welcome to help. It's just down the corridor leading towards the Hufflepuff Common Room, below the Great Hall. Tickle the pear on the portrait of a bowl of fruit." He instructed before turning and vanishing into the halls._

Smiling softly, Minerva felt the soft silk beneath her fingers. She quickly brushed her raven hair before tying it back into a long ponytail. Finishing off her Ginger biscuit, Minerva placed all her gifts (apart from her ribbon) into her trunk under her bed. Swiftly, she dressed into her leisure clothes; as it was Christmas, there was no need for her to wear her robes.

Brushing her hair once more, Minerva hurried down to lunch. To her surprise, the house tables had been pushed to the side of the room leaving one table stretching down the middle. It was covered in a red tablecloth with china plates and silver platters and goblets set for twelve. There were four other students there; a sullen looking fifth year Ravenclaw, two Hufflepuff second years and a fourth year Slytherin. The caretaker, Mr Pringle, was there along with six of the professors: Professor Merrythought, Professor Slughorn, Professor Beery, Professor Kettleburn, Professor Dippet and Professor Dumbledore.

"Merry Christmas!" welcomed Dippet as Minerva approached the table. "As there's so few of us, it seems foolish to use the House tables. Come and sit down!"

Minerva shyly took the only seat left; the one opposite Dumbledore. She noticed how his eyes twinkled even brighter once he saw her hair tied back with the ribbon. Fleetly, she mouthed the words 'thank you' to him and smiled. He smiled back and gave her a private wink.

"Cracker?" He offered her. Minerva took the second handle of the silver cracker and tugged hard. Dumbledore's strength out won her; the cracker exploded and a cloud of blue smoke enveloped them all. Once cleared, it revealed a large, scarlet tricorne hat with golden stitching and a chessboard complete with all the figurines. "You may have the hat, Ms McGonagall. I think I'll go and thieve Professor Merrythought's flower bonnet."

Minerva giggled and slammed the tricorne hat onto her head. Within seconds, Dumbledore was fleeing around the room with a flower bonnet in hand while Professor Merrythought sent jinxes his way in attempt to get her bonnet back. Minerva quickly bowed her head so no one could see the fit of giggles she was exploding into. Finally, Dumbledore returned to his seat, wearing a deerstalker and Professor Merrythought returned to her own after successfully retrieving her flower bonnet.

"How childish…" Dumbledore muttered as he helped himself to some broccoli. "Fighting over a silly bonnet…"

Minerva snorted at the hypocrisy. Dumbledore glanced up at her with a fighting grin. They ate their dinner in near silence, apart from the clattering of crockery and the conversations between teachers. After Minerva cleaned her plate, full from the amount of vegetables and treacle she had devoured, she stood up from the table and left the Great Hall. As the headed towards Gryffindor tower, she was joined by a friendly figure.

"Do you like your gift?" Dumbledore asked.

"I absolutely love it, professor." Minerva replied. "Thank you so much, although I do feel a bit guilty about not sending you anything…"

Dumbledore waved it away with his hand. "There's no need, Ms McGonagall. Seeing a young student like you with such interest in Transfiguration is a gift good enough for me." He retorted. "And it's nice to know that I've helped you in some way."

"Hopefully Professor Slughorn won't be pulling anymore hairs form my potions anymore." Minerva grinned. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Yes, I'm sure he will be most pleased." He smiled. "And by the way, you left your chess set behind."

Minerva glanced at the chess set Dumbledore pulled from his robes. "I don't know how to play though," She muttered.

Dumbledore glanced at her as if she had grown a third eye. "You don't know how to play wizard chess?" He gasped. Minerva shook her head. "Well then, I'll just have to teach you." He said. Minerva's eyes glimmered.

"Really? You'll teach me wizard chess?" Minerva asked hopefully, checking that it wasn't her ears fooling her.

"Of course I will. After all, I am a teacher."


	5. First January

January – New Glasses

A chill seeped through the castle, rain fell from the sky in heavy droplets. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, sending a few of the younger students screaming in fright. The bell was almost out droned by the combination of the loud drumming of rain against the windows and the deafening thunder.

Dumbledore sighed and massaged his forehead; he had trouble controlling his previous class as half of them dived under their tables whenever thunder decided to roar. They were chatting with each other nervously, not paying any attention to their work of transfiguring their pets into goblets. As the sound of footsteps died down outside the classroom, the quite murmur of chatter whispered from beyond the door; his next class had arrived. Glancing at his timetable, it was the Slytherin and Gryffindor first years.

Swiftly, all sign of annoyance and tiredness melted from his face and he opened the door. "Come in, come in." he welcomed as he ushered the first years inside his classroom. They quickly got to their seats and pulled out their books, a few peering at the window cautiously. "There's no need to worry about the weather; you're all perfectly safe indoors."

The class seemed the settle and prepared to work. However, there was someone missing.

"Where's Ms McGonagall?" He asked the class. Two Slytherins in the front sniggered while the others smirked. The Gryffindors glared at them all, visibly annoyed or angry. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"She ran off in the middle of Potions, professor." A Gryffindor girl, Ruth Davis, informed him. "Sh-"

Ruth was cut off as the classroom door swung open and Minerva stormed into the room, her robes swaying and her hair trailed behind her like a cloak of pure night. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. Ever since she had that ribbon for Christmas, she had always worn her hair up into a Hippogriff tail. She never arrived late to class. She had never stormed out in the middle of a class either. She hadn't met him in the eye, not apologised to her or even seemed the slightest bothered about turning up late.

Minerva slumped into her chair in the back of the class, pulled out her books roughly and dropped her satchel onto the floor. Her head was kept down, her hair curtaining over her eyes. A few Gryffindors glanced at her with pity while some Slytherins struggled to stifle their giggles. Jason, Minerva's friend, glared at them all as if to tell them to shut up.

Instantly, Dumbledore knew she was upset.

"All of you turn to page twelve and read up to page fourteen. I want you all then to summarize what you have learnt on a parchment and then read them out to me. The best summary will earn five points for their house." Dumbledore instructed. Instantly, all the books opened.

Minerva opened hers to the correct page, held it on her lap and started reading, despite having already learnt the pages off by heart. Dumbledore moved up through the middle aisle to her desk in the back.

"Ms McGonagall, may I have a word with you outside?" He asked gently.

Softly, Minerva shook her head. Dumbledore caught sight of a Slytherin twisting his head around to catch a glimpse of her; he waved his wand and the Slytherin's neck became stuck in the direction of the front of the class.

"Please?" He pleaded. Minerva remained as still as a statue for the next few moments before she slowly placed her book back onto the desk and quietly got up. Still not looking Dumbledore in the eye, she quickly past him and hurried out of the class. Dumbledore swiftly followed, ignoring the rising volume of sneers and sniggers from the Slytherins.

He closed the door and turned to Minerva, who had her head bent down as if to examine her shoes. Before he could speak, Minerva piped up. "I'm sorry," She apologised. "I'm sorry I was late. Can I go back in now?" She asked.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Dumbledore replied softly and bent down to look her in the eye. Minerva's head snapped away from him, her dark locks hiding her face. "Ms Davis said that you ran out of class during the middle of your Potions lesson. Did something happen or were you not feeling well?"

"No, I feel fine." She replied. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Ms McGonagall, please," Dumbledore required. "It's not healthy to bottle up emotions." Minerva refused to talk. Sighing, Dumbledore shuffled towards her. "Minerva, please tell me what's wrong. I don't like seeing you upset."

Minerva stopped breathing. He had said her first name.

Hesitantly, Minerva turned her head to face Dumbledore. She gave a little sniff and her eyes flickered up to meet his. Dumbledore still couldn't see her face properly underneath the thick locks of ebony hair. He reached out and pulled them out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. His eyebrows rose.

"Oh," He muttered.

Minerva's eyes instantly watered and she hid her face again. "I know; it looks terrible." She whimpered and covered her face with her hands.

"No, no, no, no, no; you look perfectly fine." Dumbledore soothed. "There's nothing wrong about having spectacles."

Minerva peered up at him with large green eyes, hidden behind two rectangular shaped spectacles. "They look horrible on me; Michael Sharkie and Lucifer Malfoy made that very clear in Potions."

"Ah, so that's why you ran out of the lesson." Dumbledore sighed. Minerva nodded.

"They kept making jokes and jeers. They called me square head; I know it's childish to get upset over something this stupid," She mumbled as she wiped away the approaching tears. "I really did try to ignore them but now the whole house has joined in."

"Well, they're not very good at making names are they? I mean those glasses are evidently rectangular." Dumbledore pointed out. "And don't you worry about those Slytherins. They're just jealous because they haven't got such ravishing spectacles."

Minerva giggled, knowing well that they didn't want her glasses.

"Ignore them, my dear. And by the way, since when did you have glasses? I didn't see them on you at breakfast."

"Madam Pine said I've been reading too much and it's affected my eye sight. I can't see far away. She gave them to me just before first lesson." To Minerva's surprise, Dumbledore chuckled.

"Only you can become short sighted from reading too much." He smiled. He patted Minerva on the shoulder. "Now, we are going to go back into that classroom and you are going to wear those spectacles proudly. If you must, I give you permission to poke your tongue out at those Slytherins."

Minerva giggled, again.

"If they dare say anything to you, just tell me and I'll give them a detention." With that, they both stood tall and headed towards the door. As Dumbledore's hand fell upon the handle, Minerva cried out.

"Wait!" She pulled out something from her pocket. Quickly pulling her hair up into a high Hippogriff tail and tied it with her scarlet ribbon. With all of her hair free from her face, her half rectangular spectacles gleaming, Minerva proudly entered the classroom. As she heard the snigger rise from Malfoy's mouth, she waved her wand and transfigured his quill into a fake snake. Malfoy jumped out of his seat and crashed against the ground, leading a round of laughter from the Gryffindors.

Dumbledore pretended that he had never seen it.


	6. First February

**Sorry for the long wait, my friends, I've currently moved on from the MMAD phase but not to worry, I have written many chapters up to Minerva's second year in Febuary and I will continue updating. I will return to the MMAD phase so not to worry! I constantly move between phases (Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, Maximum Ride, Kung Fu Panda, Lion King, Treasure Planet, etc.)**

**Here's the long-awaited chapter!**

February – Meeting by the Lake

Valentine's Day quickly approached and before Minerva knew it, the castle was decorated with pink streamers and little paper hearts floated from the Great Hall ceiling. Headmaster Dippet announced at lunch, a week before Valentine's Day, that there would be a Lover's Ball from three o'clock to eight o'clock for fourth years and under, but from three o'clock to ten o'clock for fifth years and over.

Thankfully, nobody had asked Minerva to go. Even if somebody did, she would have turned them down. If there was one day Minerva hated, it was Valentine's Day. She found completely useless and boring; why should lovers dedicate one day of the year to love when they should be doing it all year round? Luckily, Minerva was not forced into attending the Ball but sadly, lessons would still end earlier than usual.

While some girls were fussing around with their dresses and spraying their hair with an amount so large Minerva started choking, she grabbed a few books and walked south down by the lake. She found a pebbled area next to the cool water, a large tree that appeared easy to climb created a large shadow. Despite the weather still being mildly chilly, Minerva wanted to be outside, away from the pink decorations or the odd snogging couple. She slung her satchel over her shoulder and started to scale the tree. She hoisted herself up onto a low branch before gripping onto a higher one and using it to hold onto as she trekked up the bent trunk.

She climbed up into a V shaped branch, perched herself comfortable and hung her satchel from a reachable branch. She pulled out her Transfiguration book from the library and started to read.

As she finished off the chapter about Animagi, Minerva heard a rustling from a far bush. She froze all over and listened carefully. The rustling grew louder and soon, out stepped Professor Dumbledore. He shook his head free from any leaves and approached the pebbles. Minerva remained silent and watched Dumbledore sit on the pebbles and casually started making a pile. He pulled out his wand, muttered a spell and a silvery bird erupted from the end of his wand.

Minerva stifled a gasp as the bird soared over Dumbledore's head and over the lake. She watched the ghostly bird glide over the surface of the cold water in awe, wondering what the ghostly bird was. She carefully analysed the swift movements, she flawless tail that appeared the size of a peacocks. For a moment, Minerva wondered if it was a peacock but its legs were far too short and wings far too big.

Dumbledore didn't seem disturbed by the bird's presence. He gazed at it happily as if landed near him and ruffled its silver wings. He waved his wand again and the bird vanished.

"What was that?" Minerva questioned.

Dumbledore jumped to his head, wand drawn, startled. He sighed and lowered his wand when he caught sight of Minerva perched in her tree like a bird. "How long have you been there for?"

"Much longer than you have," She replied. "What was that…thing?"

Grinning, Dumbledore chuckled. "Don't you know what it is?"

"Evidently not or I wouldn't be asking." She retorted. Slipping her book back into her satchel, she slid down the trunk of the tree and swung from the lower branch. "What was it?" She echoed.

"It was a patronus." Dumbledore revealed. "Do you know what that is?"

Minerva puffed out her chest. "Of course I do," She muttered. "It's a defence charm against dark, unbeatable creatures that other spells, for example the stunning spell, wouldn't affect."

"Well, if you knew what it was why were you asking."

"I'd just never seen one before." Minerva replied. She glanced at his wand. "What animal was it?"

"A Phoenix." Dumbledore replied. He waved his wand, muttered the spell and the silvery phoenix once against sprouted from the tip. Minerva's jaw dropped slightly as the Phoenix twirled around her and soared above her head. Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at her amazed face.

"Can you teach me?" She asked.

"Pardon?"

"Can you teach me how to do a Patronus?" She repeated.

Dumbledore hesitated. "It takes a lot of effort and practice."

"I know but I'll try really hard, professor." Minerva promised. Her eyes glittered as the Phoenix soared above their heads, diving suddenly before gliding gently through the cool air. A grin crossed her face when she saw it perch in the branch she was sitting in only moments ago. Dumbledore saw the thirst to learn this spell.

"I will teach you; do you have your wand?" He asked. Minerva pulled it out of her pocket and held it with trembling hands. "Now, I want you to say these words, nice and clear: Expecto Patronum."

"Expecto Patronum," Minerva repeated. "Expecto Patronum."

"Very good," Dumbledore praised. "Now, when you feel ready, close your eyes and think of the happiest memory you can remember."

Minerva closed her eyes tightly and remembered the very moment she arrived at Hogwarts.

Minerva glanced up at the large, stone-built castle. The little windows were flickering golden; the shadow of the boat house was close by. The bright moonlight reflected against the cold water of the Black Lake; Minerva's boat swayed side to side gently. A dark lock of hair fell in front of her eyes and she wiped it away, wanting to take in as much of the castle as possible.

Her stomach stirred with many feelings: fear of being without her parents, nerves if anything, wonder about this new world, happy to be finally free from her parent's home in the hills of Scotland. She would finally meet children her own age, finally learn from people other than her parents, free to read as much as she wanted, to make friends and learn more and more.

She kept this memory repeating in her head and held out her wand. Opening her eyes, she said the spell: "Expecto Patronum."

Her wand vibrated but nothing happened. A surge of disappointment washed over her. She tried it again and again yet nothing happened. Her stomach dropped and her face fell. To her surprise, Dumbledore was laughing.

"What's so funny?" She asked hotly.

"Your face; you looked so disappointed." He chuckled. Minerva scowled.

"Wouldn't you be too?" She snapped. Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye and patted her back.

"Don't worry, Ms McGonagall, you aren't the only one to fail on their first attempt." Dumbledore smiled. "I did too; it took me much more time and practice to try it and that was when I was in my sixth year! Don't look so ashen, Ms McGonagall. You're only a first year; you have plenty of time to practice it. Some people don't even form a full patronus when they're in their late thirties! I'm sure when you are older and more experienced in magic; you will be able to produce a patronus."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" She asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm perfectly positive. If you're lucky, you might be able to make one before you leave school."

Admitting failure, Minerva nodded and stared out at the lake. "Sir, why aren't you at the Ball?" She questioned. "I thought teachers had to attend?"

"Not all teachers. Some volunteer to go; some prefer to patrol the corridors. I, however, prefer to escape all this romantic nonsense. Love it powerful but too much of it does make one feel nauseous." Dumbledore answered truthfully. "I think decorating the whole castle is a bit too much, if you ask me."

"I agree, sometimes people take it a bit too far." Minerva muttered as she sat down on the pebbles. "Do you mind if I stayed?" She asked.

"Not at all, Ms McGonagall," Dumbledore sat down with her and took the stone from the top of his pile. "If I'm honest, it does get a bit lonely out here. I did invite Fawkes to join me but he's been feeling a bit unwell in the last few days."

"Who's Fawkes?" Minerva asked. Dumbledore threw the stone like a Frisbee. It skipped against the water four times before sinking into its shadowy depths.

"Fawkes is my pet Phoenix."

"You have a pet Phoenix?" Minerva gasped. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Yes; I met him when I was scaling a mountain years ago, when I was youthful. His mother had abandoned him. That's why Phoenix's are so rare: their mother's abandon them when they hatch. If they are strong, they survive. If they aren't strong, well…I found Fawkes in his nest, all alone on a mountain peak. Ever since, he has become my pet." Dumbledore storied. "You can visit him when you like but I advise it when he's not so ill. He's approaching his burning day which may be in a couple of months, a year even. Once he is regrown to his full size, I'll introduce you to him."

"Really? You'd let me visit you Phoenix?" Minerva repeated.

"Of course but I wouldn't go around telling students, they might want to see him too. Fawkes can be a bit shy around strangers and too many people might turn him a bit agitated. He tends to lash out then." Dumbledore explained.

"I won't tell a soul, professor." Minerva promised. They sat in silence for a few minutes; Dumbledore started humming to himself while skipping stones against the cold waters. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think my patronus will be?"

"Well, a patronus counts on many things, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore explained. "It can change due to a great change in emotions, it can be your favourite animal, it can be an animal that matches your personality so on and so forth."

"So which animal do you think I'm like?" She asked while twirling a pebble in her hand.

"Well, by the way you scaled down that tree and you can be very bold sometimes, I'd say you'd be a monkey!" Minerva giggled with a large grin. "But you're also very intelligent. So what animal do I think of when I think intelligent and athletic?"

Minerva shrugged.

"A cat, of course!" Dumbledore revealed with a wide grin.


	7. First March

**Hello dear readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I really enjoyed writing this one ^_^ Sorry updates have been slow, I just got back from my holiday in Italy. Here's the next chapter!**

March – Lemon Drops

The bell rang to declare the end of Transfiguration, leading everyone to pack their bags in a slight panic. "Remember, I want a one foot essay on what you've learnt today in by the end of the week!" Dumbledore reminded as the class hurried out and ran to lunch. He swiftly moved and sat at his desk, noticing that Minerva was lagging behind.

She approached his desk shyly.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Ms McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked softly. Minerva blushed.

"I got these for you but I'm not sure if you'll like them." Minerva muttered as she held up a small, paper bag.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "For me?" He asked.

"Yes, a late Christmas present. It's not exactly fair that you gave me one and I didn't give you one. I wasn't too sure what to get you so my mother suggested these and sent some to me. I don't know if you'll like them but still…"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "There's no need in getting me any gift, Ms McGonagall."

"It's been eating me up since Christmas so just take it." Minerva insisted as she dumped the small bag onto the table.

"What are they?" Dumbledore questioned as he peered into the small paper bag."

"They're Muggle sweets. I think they're called Lemon drops." Minerva replied.

Dumbledore gingerly pulled out a sugar coated sweet, colored yellow and shaped like a miniature lemon. His eyebrows rose slightly more as he examined it. "How interesting." He muttered to himself. He popped one into his mouth and rolled it about on his tongue, savouring the sour taste. His eyes widened and he delightfully chewed on it.

"Oh my," He gasped slightly. "This is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. It's sour yet sweet, small but entirely addictive."

"Do you like them, then sir?" Minerva questioned hopefully.

"Like them, I love them!" He replied gleefully. "Where on earth did your mother find these?" He popped another lemon drop into his mouth and almost moaned at the sensation of the small sweet.

"I'm not sure; we live a bit far from the nearest Muggle shop." Minerva replied. "I'm glad you like them, sir."

Pocketing the bag of sweets, Dumbledore rose from his desk. "Come on, we'd better get to lunch before they start without us." And he steered her all the way to the Great Hall, stopping now and then to pop another lemon drop.

* * *

"Ms McGonagall, may I have a word?" Dumbledore required.

Minerva paused, and turned to him. "Yes professor?"

"Do you happen to have any more of those lemon drops on you, by any chance?" He asked hopefully. Minerva frowned at him.

"Professor, you haven't eaten all those lemon drops already have you? I gave them to you _yesterday afternoon_ and it's not even_ breakfast_ yet!" Minerva gasped. Dumbledore dropped his gaze sheepishly and shuffled on his feet.

"I know, but they're so _addictive_!" Dumbledore excused. "Anyway, what's the worst that can happen?"

"An abnormal of sugar intake in such a short period of time can lead to a high risk of diabetes, increase your weight and size and rot your teeth, professor!" Minerva sighed and shook her head. "Really, you ought to know the dangers of sugar. That's why I hardly ever eat it!"

"Please, Ms McGonagall, I really need some more lemon drops. Can you just tell me where your mother got them from?"

"I'm not sure of even that, Professor." Minerva sighed. "I'll owl her tonight and ask her. Until then, eat lemon slices with some sweeteners. It's much healthier!"

"Yes but it doesn't taste as nice!" Dumbledore whined.

"Really professor, you're acting like a child. Grow up now or there won't be any lemon drops for you at all!" Minerva snapped at him. Dumbledore pouted and glared at the floor.

"Yes Mother." He muttered under his breath.


	8. First April

**HEYY YOU GUYS!  Hope you enjoy this chapter :) I'm away for the next week on holidays and I'll probably update once I get back :)**

April – Bludger Incident 

The April sunshine was strong, the sky was clear and the temperatures were record-breakingly hot; perfect weather for the Quidditch Final between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

Despite Minerva's interest in the academic subjects, she still enjoyed watching the Quidditch games. She had read loads of books on Quidditch, including famous players and teams, the rules and the property of each ball. Also, this was one of the few similarities between Minerva and her friend, Jason.

Jason had lived and breathed Quidditch all his life. His father was a previous Chaser for the Caerphilly Catapults and his mother was a beater for the Holyhead Harpies. His father bought him a broomstick for his fifth birthday and ever since has known how to ride one. He, his parents and his younger sister would play Quidditch in the back yard all the time and his room had been decorated to support both teams.

Minerva thought herself very luck to by friends with Jason. If there was anything she didn't understand about the alien sport, Jason would update her.

They woke up earlier than normal on that Saturday morning and quickly got dressed and hurried to breakfast. Leaving behind their scarves and cloak in their dormitories, they hurried to the Quidditch pitch to get good seats. Luckily, they managed to get seats in the centre of the stands with a perfect view of high above and below on the pitch without having to strain their necks. Jason had brought along a pair of binoculars to watch the game in more detail.

As time went on, the stands began to fill up with students waving flags and banners for their Slytherin or Gryffindor. Teachers started arriving too, filling into the high boxes with the commentator, Damon Demetrius from Ravenclaw's sixth year.

"You know, if we win by one hundred and twenty points, we're first place to win the House Cup?" Jason told her with excitement in his eyes.

"So all we need to do is catch the Snitch?" Minerva rose her eyebrows.

"To win the house cup, yes but to win the Quidditch Cup, we need two hundred and thirty," Jason informed. "This seems pretty easy because on average, for every game this season, we've had around ninety to one hundred and twenty points from scoring. If we add the Snitch points onto that then we're probably going to win at around two hundred and forty to two hundred and seventy points which is much more than what we need for the House Cup."

Minerva nodded, trying to keep up with Jason's speedy talking. "All I care about is if we win the Quidditch Cup because we can always get enough points for the House Cup by answering questions in class and stuff."

"True, true but I think we have a good chance by-Oh look! Here they come!" Sure enough, the Quidditch players were now marching out onto field. Gryffindor's team of thin, light players and Slytherin's team of bulky, heavy players.

"You know, our team is better. Sure, Slytherin have got Jeremy Black for Keeper and he's pretty good because he's broad and more likely to stop the Quaffle and they've got Lyle McLeach as beater; he's pretty good with a bat and stuff but compared to our team, we're nimble wasps and they're big chunky flying cows! We're faster and lighter on our brooms so we'd do a pretty good Wronski Feint, while the Slytherins are going to be slower. I hope our team have already figured that out." Jason rambled as he peered through his binoculars.

Minerva couldn't help but think that Jason would be good on the Quidditch team; no doubt he had inherited his Quidditch skills from his parents.

"Oh look, Dippet's come to watch!" Jason cried and shoved the binoculars onto Minerva's eyes. She could clearly see Dippet and Dumbledore in deep conversation.

The whistle was blown, the Quaffle thrown up into the air and the game had started.

Gryffindor chaser Jemima Carrington grabbed the Quaffle and soared towards the Slytherin Goalposts. She passed it to her fellow chaser, Olivia Bell, who then passed it to Elliot Saunders who shot forward like an arrow and scored.

The Gryffindor crowds cheered; two minutes into the game and ten points already in the bag.

Slytherin chaser Jasper Sykes was in possession of the Quaffle with Olivia Bell hot on his tail. He shot up high above the pitch and Olivia Bell pursued his path and then, quicker than flicking a switch, Sykes free-fell with his broom downwards. Olivia Bell quickly followed but ended up ten feet behind the tail of Sykes' broom.

"Is he going to score, is Sykes going to-_oh! _A brilliant save there by Harry Prince, Gryffindor Keeper, brilliant! Just hit it away with the tip of his fingers, amazing!"

Minerva sighed with relief.

Olivia Bell got possession of the Quaffle only to be hit square on the back by a Bludger sent by Lyle McLeach. The Gryffindor crowd booed while the Slytherins cheered as Olivia was carried off the pitch in a stretcher.

"That's not good," Jason grumbled. "Olivia scored a quarter of the average goals. Without her, we won't have enough points to get the Cup."

"Have a little faith, Jason." Minerva gritted through her teeth.

Half an hour passed and Gryffindor were winning sixty-forty. Minerva cheered with the roaring crowd as Elliot Saunders scored with the Quaffle, propping Gryffindor up to seventy points.

Suddenly, the Slytherin seeker dived. He had seen the Snitch! The Gryffindor seeker, Nathanial Chou, swiftly followed him and soon, they were closely battling for the snitch. Minerva's stomach dropped when Chou's broom faltered after the Slytherin seeker rammed him. Luckily, Chou rammed him back and soon it became a tackling war. However, the two were not looking where they were going and Chou managed to shoot up in time, just before the Slytherin seeker accidently flew into the sides of the high box.

But when Chou looked for the Snitch, it was gone.

Within this time, Jemima Carrington had scored and extra ten points and then Elliot Saunders hit the Quaffle back in, earning Gryffindor an extra ten! Winning by ninety-forty, Minerva's spirits were high.

Suddenly, Slytherin had a lucky five minutes. Sykes got the Quaffle again and managed to score ten more points for Slytherin, and then another ten within the next few seconds. He passed then to Ike Numluk who scored another ten points for Slytherin. Groaning, Minerva pursed her lips and hoped for the best. Ninety to Gryffindor; seventy to Slytherin

Thankfully, Elliot Saunders and Jemima Carrington got possession of the Quaffle and scored an extra ten points, pushing the distance between Slytherin and Gryffindor of one hundred – seventy.

Chou, who had been hovering above the pitch, dived quickly and shot downwards like an arrow. The Slytherin seeker quickly followed but it was too late. Chou had done a spectacular dive and nabbed the Snitch out of thin air.

Waving it triumphantly into the air, the Gryffindors cheered wildly. They had one the Quidditch Cup! Roaring, cheering, clapping their hands and waving their flags, the Gryffindors all celebrated in an explosion of sound. Jason had momentarily wrapped his arms around Minerva while jumping up and down into the air. Stealing his binoculars, Minerva used them to look up at Dumbledore, who was currently shaking hands with Slughorn, who had a large grin on his face.

"It's not enough for the house cup, though." Jason muttered. "We're behind by around forty points because Slytherin got seventy points."

Minerva shrugged. "Who cares? We've won the Quidditch Cup!"

However, Gryffindor's happiness was short lived. While they were cheering and Slytherin groaning, Slytherin's beater Lyle McLeach slammed a Bludger with his bat so hard it soared steering towards the Gryffindor crowd. Those who spotted the Bludger all screamed and hurried away from the spot it was heading. As the Bludger smashed through the stands, one scream was louder than anyone's: Minerva's.

The Bludger had soared right into her right side, crushing her ribs and sending a blinding pain through her body. Her right side instantly bruised, her chest felt as if someone had tied and iron board to it to restrict Minerva's breathing. Tears instantly leaked from the girl's emerald eyes, her legs gave way from beneath her. A buzzing sound pierced her hearing, blocking the sound of all the other gasps of horror form around her. Screaming and sobbing with pain, Minerva's world vanished into an inky darkness.

* * *

"Minnie?"

Minerva's eyes fluttered open even though she had preferred to stay asleep. Her right side felt as if it was on fire; it burned and ached so much. She found it difficult to breathe, as if the iron board was still tied to her chest. Her sight was blurred and unfocused, her head ached.

"Minnie? Wyt ti'n iawn?"

Minerva frowned at the strange language. She squinted her eyes to make out the shadowy figure of a boy with a mop of blonde hair. For a second, he vanished.

"Madam Pine! Minerva's awake!" He cried. The voice was familiar: Jason.

Another two figures hurried into view. Judging by the pure white clothing and sullen features, one of them was Madam Pine. The other figure, however, was unknowable.

Madam Pine hurried to her side and quickly waved her wand. "This may hurt, girl." She warned. With a flick of her wand, there was a painful click and rip from Minerva's right side and her face instantly screwed up, whimpering. Minerva choked back a sob and gritted her teeth. Her lips felt dry and her tongue was sandpaper.

Suddenly, a cool liquid was poured down her throat. Thirsty, Minerva gulped it down quickly, despite it having a faint twinge of lemon and orange. Like magic, the ache in Minerva's head and side melted away but she was washed by a wave of fatigue. Feeling sleepy, Minerva closed her eyes and she instantly sank into a deep slumber.

* * *

Minerva awoke in what felt like seconds later. She yawned and propped herself up, gazing around the room. Instantly she knew that she was in the Hospital Wing; the strong smell of chemicals and soap, the pristine floors and walls, the blinding amount of white all pointed to that one place.

"How you feeling, Minnie?"

Minerva glanced sideways to see a figure wearing black clothing and a mop of blonde hair, sitting in an uncomfortable chair while leaning eagerly towards her. Blinking, Minerva rubbed her eyes and glanced around for her glasses. She found them, placed on the bedside cabinet and she quickly shoved them onto her eyes. The figure turned out to be Jason.

"Wh-what happened?" Minerva questioned, glancing around in confusion.

"That idiot McLeach sent a Bludger at you. According to Madam Pine, you broke your ribs and punctured a lung. You're alright now, of course, she fixed you up but she says you got to rest. You haven't missed much, it's only Sunday afternoon. Madam Pine wants to keep you in until after Monday's lessons, just in case you're in shock or something."

"We won the Quidditch Cup, right?" Minerva said slowly.

Jason's face lit up. "You'd never guess what? We're in the lead for the House Cup!" He grinned. Minerva perked up.

"What? How?"

"McLeach lost Slytherin one hundred points because he hit you. He's also got one months' worth of detention with Dumbledore and a right whipping from Pringle." Jason's face suddenly became much more serious. "Dumbledore was furious, Min. Seriously, he and Dippet were having a right go at each other yesterday. Dumbledore wanted to suspend McLeach but Dippet didn't allow it. They were arguing for ages. Dumbledore was going on about how he could have killed you and stuff; he got really worked up about it. Seriously, I've never seen Dumbledore so angry!"

Minerva gulped. "What happened after I got hit?"

"Well, Dumbledore came straight down. Followed you all the way up when you were on the stretcher. I was allowed to come in and watch you. Dumbledore was here, didn't move until you woke up and then went back to sleep. He was furious though, red in the face and all." Jason explained.

"Madam Pine made him leave, though. He wasn't too happy about it but I didn't stay for long. I rushed up to the tower before he started shouting again."

Minerva smiled and suppressed a giggle. Suddenly, Madam Pine came running and shooed Jason out of the Hospital Wing, screaming at him to get out so Minerva could rest, faster than you could say Quidditch.


	9. First May

May – Chess

They sat in silence as they commenced their game of chess. Minerva almost silently ordered her castle to move three squares up. The castle tackled Dumbledore's knight with such force, the knight crumpled into a pile of pebbles. Dumbledore sweep it aside and then moved his pawn forward a square.

The silence was awkward, Dumbledore glancing up now and again to see the face of an unamused Minerva McGonagall. Her nostrils flared, she was slaughtering every piece of Dumbledore's white chess pieces she could. She had taken the black side as it matched her hair and her mood and he was sure she had vowed to herself to kill every single one of his pieces.

As he wiped away the remains of his poor pawn, he glanced up at her. There was a fire in her eyes, a dangerous fire that he did not want to cross.

"I said I was sorry." He muttered meekly.

"I still can't believe you did that." She grumbled. She pursed her lips and scanned the chessboard.

"I am though, I'm really sorry."

"You should be."

"I really shouldn't have done it, I am sorry. Please forgive me?"

"I will once my father gets out of hospital."

Dumbledore paled. "He's in hospital?"

"No, but in shock." She replied as she murdered his remaining bishop. "Really, how stupid can you get?"

"Sorry." Dumbledore gulped.

"I don't care if you're sorry, I still can't believe that you _actually_ did that!" She snapped.

"I really am-"

_"You sent a patronus__ to my mother asking for where she got those lemon drops from!"_

"I really am sorry-"

"…_While my _Muggle_ father was in the room!"_

"I didn't mean to scare him-"

"Scare him? _You gave him a bloody heart attack!" _

_"_Okay, he probably-"

_"And don'__t get me started on the cat!"_

"I'll pay for any medical-"

"Poor Pallas hasn't gone into that room since!"

"I-"

"You really need to sort out your addiction to those lemon drops!"

"I'm not addicted!"

"Denial is the first sign! First step to a recovery is admitting you have a problem!"

"I do not have a problem!"

_"Yes you do! You sent a patronus to my __bloody mother asking for the god damn things, I think that's fairly enough to admit you've got a bloody problem!"_

By this time, Minerva had leapt from her seat and was glaring down at Dumbledore. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, like emerald fires ready to explode and burn him to the crisp. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her. After a few seconds, her temper died down and she picked up her chair, sat in it and told her queen to move a space up. "Sorry, I spoke out of turn." She whispered, her head bent in shame.

Dumbledore's sight dropped to the chess board. "As long as you apologised." He spoke gently.

"…your mother still told me where to get the lemon drops though."

Minerva let out a cry of frustration and stormed from Dumbledore's classroom like a raging dragon. Dumbledore tried not to chuckle, knowing it would be wrong to laugh at the girl's annoyance, so he popped a lemon drop into his mouth.


	10. First June

June- Exam

Minerva grasped her wand tightly as she queued up to reach Dumbledore's desk. She stood stiffly, wand almost snapping in her tight grasp, as pale as a patronus. Her hands trembled slightly; nerves were making her stomach flip. The last time she could remember being this nervous was during her sorting almost a year ago.

Jason stood behind her, appearing much more relax than she was. "Calm down, already," He muttered to her. "You'll be fine, really, you're the best at Transfiguration in our year!"

"What if something goes wrong?" She hisses, her heart sinking into her stomach.

"Nothing will go wrong; you'll do brilliantly!"

Minerva shuffled on her feet, not too sure. She twirled her wand around in her fingers, feeling slightly nauseous. Taking deep breaths, she brushed a lock of ebony hair out of her face and tried to control her shivering hands.

She heard Jason ask the passing people, all those who had completed their exam, what was the task but they all gave different answers: mouse to snuffbox, needle to matchstick, matchstick to needle, feather into a twig, etc.

Even though she was against cheating, Minerva had wished that Dumbledore hadn't been so clever and decided to surprise them all by giving them different tasks, reducing the chances of cheating. If she had known what was coming, she would have been calmer and prepared. But then, it wouldn't been fair on the person who had to go first.

Minerva thought she was going to throw up when Malfoy stepped forward to do his exam. Taking in shaky breaths, she heard Dumbledore place a pin in front of him and ask him to turn it into a length of thread. The boy had almost been successful, apart from the fact that the thread was (apparently) a bit stiff. He earned an eight out of ten and turned to leave.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling when Minerva stepped forward, trembling like a leaf. "Calm down," He muttered to her gently. "You'll do fine, I'm sure." He told her.

Minerva gave him a weak smile. A small smile appeared on his face as he placed a small, cream button in front of her. Minerva frowned and glanced up questioningly.

"I'd like you to turn this button into a lemon drop for me, please."

Despite all her efforts, Minerva snorted. She stifled the giggle, sharing a knowing smile with Dumbledore before waving her wand and the button instantly became a sugar coated lemon sweet. Dumbledore's grin grew even wider as he picked it up and inspected it. His azure eyes twinkling brighter than a star-filled sky, he carefully analysed the small sweet while rolling it in his palms. Finally, he popped the sweet into his mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue and started chewing. His smile returned immediately.

"The perfect lemon drop," He announced. "Full marks."

Minerva could have fainted with relief. She sighed gratefully, turned and hurried back to her desk. As soon as she sat down, the realisation hit her and she covered her mouth to stop her uncontrollable giggles from being audible. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her sides ached with laughter. A few of her classmates were staring at her weirdly, but Minerva didn't care. She still couldn't control her laughter. _How typical of him, _she thought. _A bloody lemon drop...I'm starting to wish I'd never got him those, now..._


	11. First July

July

The year had finally finished, to Minerva's surprise. The year had flown by and Minerva was starting to find it hard to imagine a whole month without her magic, books, friends and lessons. She loved the entire castle so much she also found it hard to pick what she was going to miss the most.

Minerva hurried to the leaving feast, her hair tied back with her scarlet ribbon and her glasses gleaming in the candle light. She, along with the rest of her school, poured into the Great Hall in a massive flow of students. Steering herself to the Gryffindor table, she saw the head of a boy with a mop of golden curls and a pair of bright blue eyes. Jason, who was deep in conversation with Tessie Davis, glanced up and waved to Minerva before patting the space next to him. Swiftly, Minerva raced over and slid into her seat.

"Can you believe it?" She gasped. "It's the leaving feast already!"

Jason grinned. "I know, I can't wait to get home though. My sister wants to know all the details. She's a bit nervous about coming up here next year so my mother told me to try and reassure her, you know?"

Minerva nodded, understanding Jason's mother's request. Her mother had asked her to do the same thing to her younger brothers, especially Malcolm who would be arriving at Hogwarts next September. Her eye caught Headmaster Dippet rise from his chair and a silent hush washed over the students.

"Another year, gone." He started. "And what a marvellous year it has been. I hope you all will enjoy your final meal here at Hogwarts and I will look forward to seeing most of you here again in September. Now, I understand that the House Cup needs awarding and here's how the points stand: Slytherin in fourth place with three hundred and fifty points, Hufflepuff in third with three hundred and ninety points, Ravenclaw in second with four hundred and twelve points and Gryffindor in first place with four hundred and seventy two points."

The roars from Gryffindor were deafening; goblets thundered against the tables, hats were thrown into the air, cheers and applauses echoed through the castle. After managing to survive Jason's bone crushing hug, Minerva glanced over to Dumbledore. His eyes were twinkling brightly, his auburn beard trimmed. He was applauding, a grin plastered onto his amused face.

"Professor Dumbledore, if you please." Dippet asked. Dumbledore nodded and clapped his hands. Instantly, the plain black banners hung around the room that previously bore Hogwarts' coat of arms changed to the colours of red and gold; the Hogwarts crest changed to a towering, golden lion. Dippet and Dumbledore shook hands and he received the House Cup, placing it right in front of his own golden goblet. Dippet turned to the students: "Tuck in."

Food instantly appeared on the silver platters. Minerva quickly helped herself to the vegetables offered, pouring mint sauce over her roast potatoes. As she took a large chop of lamb and dumped it onto her plate, Jason nudged her elbows.

"To think," He grinned. "We won because you broke your ribs!"

Minerva chuckled. "Never before have I been so glad of an injury."

"So, what subjects are you taking next year?" He asked.

"Pardon?"

"We've got our options next year, which ones you taking? I'm taking Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures. Mum took Muggle Studies, she said that it's a very interesting subject. Dad said Care of Magical Creatures is the best, you get to learn about dragons and unicorns and stuff. What about you?"

"I'm not sure, I never really wondered about options." Minerva replied. "I'll ask my Mum which ones are the best."

"What about you, Tessie?" Jason turned and asked the girl opposite them. Tessie Davis glanced up with her beady black eyes.

"I'm not sure either, Care of Magical Creatures sounds good but I don't think Muggle Studies really apply to me. I mean, I'm Muggle Born so I know most of the stuff already." She replied. "What about the other subjects, what are they?"

"Divination is like predicting the future with tea leaves and crystal balls and stuff. Study of Ancient Runes means looking over ancient scripture and stuff. Arithmancy is predicting the future with numbers." Jason explained. "Mum said that Divination is a lot of guess work and stuff. Dad took Arithmancy and said it was difficult. He got a T for it, don't blame him though. He showed me some of the work he did. I didn't have a clue what it was on about."

"Divination sounds good." Tessie suggested.

Minerva wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure. If it's a lot of guess work, it's not really reliable is it?"

"I think we get tester lessons next year. They take us around from class to class to see which ones we find the easiest and then we can decide on which one we liked best." Jason informed as he shovelled broccoli into his mouth.

They chatted about looking forward to their second year, talked about Quidditch through dessert. As Minerva chewed on her treacle tart, she glanced up to the Teacher's Table to see Dumbledore staring at the House Cup. His eyes flickered to spot Minerva and then, with his blue eyes twinkling brighter than ever before, he winked.

A grin grew on Minerva face and she winked back. She then knew what- or who- she was going to miss the most.

**Hellooooooooooooo readers! Sorry the last few chapters have been dull but guess who's joining in in the next chapter? TOM RIDDLE! And to put it lightly, Minerva reeaally doesn't like him. Lots of drama up in the next few chapters so keep reading and review! No flames please, I already know it's been boring :)**


	12. Second September

September – Sorting

After a long summer, Minerva was glad to be back in Hogwarts. She arrived home to the open arms of her parents and brothers before being sat down my her mother who demanded that she told her every single detail about her much-missed world. Minerva emptied her pockets of wizarding sweets, odd notes about spells or wand movements and dug out an issue of the Daily Prophet from her trunk.

She had expected that her brothers would be the ones who would want to know every single detail but shockingly, Minerva's mother was on the edge of her seat and listening carefully to Minerva's tales. Over the summer, she would find her mother flickering through her spell books, muttering the words to herself or tracing the illustrations with her finger. She found Minerva's wizard chess set and the two spent the entire evening playing. Now and again, she would steal one of Minerva's Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Bean and either swallow it happily or spit it out in disgust. One time, she even pulled out her wand and attempted the Patronus Charm, with Minerva's instructions.

Minerva's father had recovered from the Patronus shock in May and even laughed it off. Despite not liking magic, he still listened to Minerva as she told him about her time at Hogwarts. Pallas the cat was amazed by magic; he chased after Mrs McGonagall's owl patronus, he attempted to open Minerva's chocolate frogs with his claws and stared at the moving pictures in Minerva's books.

Eventually, Minerva asked if she could take Pallas to Hogwarts with her. Her father had been hesitant hat first, worried for the cat's safety but Minerva' mother allowed her to take him, knowing that the cat would be perfectly safe.

"Don't worry, Robert." She claimed. "I took a cat with me to Hogwarts and she was perfectly fine."

Minerva's younger brothers, Malcolm and Robert Junior, desperately wanted to know how their sister's new school was like. She described the castle to them: the tall towers, the mysterious Forbidden Forest, the fantastic Quidditch pitch, the amazing library, the interesting classes, etc. She explained them everything in great detail, from the subjects to their teachers, from staff to students.

"I can't wait to go to Hogwarts, Minerva." Whined Malcolm. Minerva chuckled and tousled his hair.

"Next year, Malcolm, just wait!" She told him, thankful that she got to go to Hogwarts first and wasn't tortured by the fact she'd have to wait until she attended.

Robert Junior frowned. "I have to wait another three years." He grumbled and crossed his arms in frustration.

Tears were unshed the day Minerva left to Kings Cross. Taking public transport, Minerva and her mother travelled to London after a teary goodbye to her brothers and father. Minerva had already read half of her new books and kept her nose stuck in _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, Part II _while her mother read over her shoulder.

It had been a long summer, full of laughter and lazy days, and finally, Minerva was back at Hogwarts. She sat at Gryffindor table with her best friend, Jason Naugts, and a new friend, Tessie Davis. Excited about the new year, and partly glad they weren't the babies of the school anymore, they chatted to each other about Quidditch.

"My mother's given me her old one, the one she rode when she was in the Holyhead Harpies. It's brilliant!" He exclaimed. "I'm thinking about signing up for the Quidditch team, maybe a chaser. I've heard they've got a spot open because Elliot Saunders has gone now but they might choose an older student instead."

"You should still go for it," Tessie insisted.

Silence fell upon the Great Hall as the first years were marched through the doors, led by Professor Dumbledore, and up to the old stool in the front of the room. Minerva remembered her Sorting; she spent five and a half minutes with the dusty, ancient hat on her head, whispering into her ear. She was nervous, felt sick and frightened and wished nothing more than to leave it behind and hurry to her house.

Dumbledore unrolled the scroll and started calling out the names of the new students. Sirius Black became the first Slytherin, followed by two Ravenclaws Louise Bones and William Carmack. Michael Finnigan became the first Gryffindor, followed by Jessica Grimms who became the first Hufflepuff. The list continued:

"Grotto, Harold." "Ravenclaw!"

"Goyle, Peter." "Slytherin!"

"Hark, Thomas." "Slytherin!"

"Hooksman, Katie." "Gryffindor!"

Minerva cheered with the rest of her table as the new students joined their house. The list continued on, from Law to Lestrange, from Malfoy to Prewett, until it came down to one boy.

"Riddle, Tom."

A small, skinny boy stepped up to the stool. His black hair was slick back, his face pointed but ignorant. His robes weren't new and slightly oversized. He turned and sat on the stool, letting Minerva get a glimpse of his dark, intense eyes. The hat touched his head before it screamed out:

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted in loud, welcoming their newest student. Minerva's eyes followed the strange boy, his face smug and delighted at the same time. She stared at him through the whole sorting, interested in his inhumane eyes. She had to admit, he was handsome but his eyes were cold and unloving.

Food appeared on the silver platters before Minerva could even register that the sorting was over. She snapped out of her trance and quickly ate, trying to ignore the strange Slytherin boy. As soon as she turned her head to her food, Riddle's eyes shot up and stared at her silky hair.


	13. Second October

October – Tom Riddle

"Hello."

Minerva's head snapped up from her book to see Tom Riddle sitting opposite her at the library table. She gave him a quick smile before dropping her gaze down to her book. Quickly peeking over his shoulder, Tom turned to Minerva with a beaming smile.

"What's your name?" He asked her. Minerva inwardly growled.

"Minerva." She quickly hissed.

"It's a lovely name." Tom flattered. Minerva didn't move and kept on reading. "I'm Tom by the way. Tom Riddle."

"Nice to meet you." Minerva muttered and turned her page. She had to re-read the first paragraph three times due to Tom's annoying tapping on the table. His tapping interrupted her train of thought, forcing her to reread the paragraph and start again.

"What house you in?" He asked. Minerva stifled an annoyed sigh; the boy could clearly see her tie colours.

"Gryffindor." She informed him.

"I'm in Slytherin." He spoke and glanced over his shoulder. They sat in silence for a few minutes, much to Minerva's liking. She turned the page and kept reading, glancing at the illustrations now and again to visualise the word's meaning.

"You have nice hair." Tom muttered. Minerva froze.

"Thank you." She replied. She frowned; what did this boy want?

"Do you know anyone by the last name of Riddle?" He asked. Frowning, Minerva shook her head. "You see, I'm an orphan and I'm trying to find my father but I can't seem to find anyone by the last name of Riddle in any of the books. I've seen you here a lot so I thought you might have found him."

"What about your mother?" Minerva asked. Tom stiffened.

"She's dead; she can't be a witch. If she was, then she wouldn't have died." He replied.

"Not even magic can prevent death, you know." Minerva informed him. "If you can't find your father, he might have been a Muggle."

"No, my mother was a Muggle, I'm sure of it. My father_ must_ be a wizard." Tom insisted. Minerva pursed her lips. "My mother died. If she was a witch, she wouldn't have."

"But not even magic can prevent death. If there is a spell then it's not known." Minerva claimed.

Tom sneered. "Then what's the point in being magic if you can't stop death?"

"We can delay it but never prevent it; everything must die in the end. I will die, you will die-"

"I won't die. I'll make myself immortal." Tom claimed. Minerva gritted her teeth, thinking Tom was arrogant and ignorant. Sighing, Minerva stood up and packed away her book.

"I'm not going to argue with you but if you want to find your father, I know nothing." Minerva finalised. She swung her satchel over her shoulder and stormed out of the library, slightly annoyed by the Riddle boy.

She hurried out of the castle, heading to one of the only places she knew was quiet and untouched by her fellow students. She raced down to the lake, stalking down a small path between two large bushes and various trees and jumped out onto an untouched pebbled banking. The cold water of the lake lapped against the pale pebbles, shadowed over by a large tree. Minerva hoisted herself up onto the lowest branch and scaled up the trunk to her usual V shaped branch. She made herself comfortable and hung her satchel from a reachable branch.

Pulling out her wand, Minerva thought of the happiest memory she could remember. With the image of passing her Transfiguration exam replayed in her mind, she aimed her wand and muttered the spell: _"Expecto Patronum!" _

Nothing but a small, silver wisp erupted from her wand. Sighing, she attempted the spell again and again but gained nothing more than the silver wisp.

"You're doing very well," spoke a voice. Minerva turned her head to see Dumbledore leaning against the trunk of the tree.

Minerva gave him an unsatisfied look. "It's not even enough to scare away a wasp." She claimed. Dumbledore laughed joyfully. He pulled out a flat stone from his pocket and skipped against the water five times. "Professor?"

"Yes Ms McGonagall?" Replied Dumbledore.

"What do you remember when you make a patronus?" She asked. Dumbledore stood as still as a statue, staring out at the lake sadly. Minerva hesitated, wondering if she should have asked the question. "You don't have to tell me," She added quickly. "I don't want to poke my nose in your privacy."

Dumbledore's mouth curved into a small smile. "Not to worry, Ms McGonagall." He said. "It's a faint memory, one when my family were all together and having a good time at Christmas."

Minerva frowned. "I'm using a similar memory but it's not working for me." She said, disappointed.

"Well, you're still young and inexperienced. Give it a few more years and I'm sure you'll be able to produce a full patronus." He reassured with a smile.

"Professor, you know Tom Riddle?" She asked.

"Yes, I know Tom. I went to his orphanage to tell him that he is a wizard. What about him?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Well, do you know who his parents are? He's been asking me if I ever came across his last name in any of the library books. Even though he is annoying, I do want to help him out. He keeps claiming his father's the wizard and his mother's a Muggle but I told him that not even magic can prevent death but he won't listen." She explained. Dumbledore stared up at her with a beaming smile.

"You're very thoughtful, but sadly, I do not know who Tom's parents were. I very much doubt that his father was the wizard one. I asked Professor Dippet if he knew anyone by Tom's surname but he did not know and he's been teaching here for long before I was even born." Revealed Dumbledore.

Minerva's face fell slightly.

Dumbledore chuckled, pulled out his wand and poked the tree trunk. Instantly, little blue flowers grew on Minerva's V shaped branches, tangling with her hair and sprouting between her fingers. "Cheer up, Ms McGonagall." He said lightly. "The happier you are, the easier it is to produce a patronus."

**We get to see a bit of Riddle's nastier side and more of Minerva's infamous temper in the next chapter ;)**


	14. Second November

November – Disturbing Words

Much to Minerva's dismay, Tom Riddle didn't leave her alone. Every time she turned up at the library, he would be there, sitting in _her_ seat with an arrogant smirk on his face. She had first tried to ignore him but Riddle was so eager to start a conversation, he'd tend to forget that they were in a library.

Annoyed with his constant blathering, Minerva would slam her book shut, shove it into her bag and storm out of the library. At lunch, she was afraid to turn around and see him staring at her with his cold, empty eyes. Those eyes were beginning to frighten her; they reminded her of the times when she was a child and was afraid of the dark. His smile was friendly but his eyes were a complete contrast.

Upset that she couldn't go to her favourite place any more, Minerva found herself in her dormitory either reading or practicing her patronus charm. She had been practising the _Fera Verto_ spell on Pallas; she had successfully turned him into a silver goblet more than enough times. She had completed all of her homework, read all of her books and now, two girls in her dormitory were giggling to each other about boys. Bored out of her mind, Minerva rolled off her bed and headed down to the library, vowing to herself that she would not give into Riddle's attempts for conversation.

When she arrived, her heart gave a leap. Riddle was nowhere in sight. Grabbing the nearest book on Transfiguration, Minerva sat down in her usual seat and started reading. The faint smell of old paper, the soft lighting of candles and the gentle rustling of turning pages was ever so warming to Minerva. The worn leather on the outer cover of her book felt like pure gold to her. She let out a blissful sigh and sank into her chair, taking in every word of the book in the peace and quiet. Delightfully relaxed, Minerva sat in the library for almost two hours. The soft shadows of snow fall danced across the walls and floor making it almost appear as if it was snowing inside. The fireplace now had a roaring fire lit, sending waves of warmth across the room. Feeling as if she was in Heaven, Minerva curled on her seat and in an instant, fell asleep.

The tickling feeling of ebony locks falling over her face woke Minerva up immediately. She shot to her feet, ignoring the cascading book, and instantly wondered how the hell her hair came out of its ribbon.

"Had a nice sleep, Minnie?"

Minerva snapped her head around over her shoulder, her insides becoming blocks of ice. "Tom." She near snarled.

Tom Riddle stood by the arm of Minerva's seat, holding her scarlet ribbon with his thumb and index finger. A smirk was plastered onto his sharp face, his eyes hollow despite the reflection of the dying embers of the fire.

"I haven't seen you around in a while," Tom said coldly.

Minerva held out her hand. "Give me my ribbon back." She demanded. Tom's smirk grew.

"You'll have to say please." He requested. Minerva bit her tongue.

"Give me my ribbon back _please_." She added with distaste. Tom didn't give it back.

"Actually, I think I might hold onto this-" Before Tom could finish his sentence, Minerva had whipped out her wand, muttered a spell and the ribbon flew from Tom's hand right into Minerva's grasp. Tom raised an eyebrow, his smirk vanishing.

"You obviously have a lot to learn about the wizarding world." Minerva muttered as she grumpily tied back her hair. She waved her wand again, muttering "_Accio_," and the book flew from the floor and into her hands. She strode past Tom and slipped the book back onto its shelf. Turning, she tucked her wand back into her pocket, glared at Tom and moved to leave.

"Minerva, wait!" Tom called. Reluctantly, Minerva stopped and turned to face him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I'm afraid you just did." She replied coldly and turned to leave.

"What blood type are you?" He blurted.

Minerva froze. "What?" She questioned, turning around in confusion.

"What blood type are you?" He repeated, his hands turning into fists.

"Why do you want to know _my blood type_?" Minerva asked. Tom's eyes flashed but before Minerva could identify which emotion it was, they returned to their emotionless, hollow look.

"Because I don't want to be friends with a Mudblood."

Minerva's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, her jaw dropped and eye brows rose. She swiftly, pulled out her wand and gripped it tightly. She could feel her blood drain from her face, the shock of Tom's words.

"You can't say_ that_!" She gasped. Tom remained emotionless.

"Can't say what?" He challenged.

"That _word_!"

"What? Mudblood?"

Minerva hissed and raised her wand. "Don't say it! That's a _horrible_ word to say!" She claimed. "Take it back, immediately!"

"I think I'm entitled to say what I want." Tom defended, frowning.

"No, you're not! Not that word!" Minerva's temper flared. "How _dare_ you use that word!" To her surprise, she was close to tears. "You should never call Muggle-borns that, _never_! It's a horrible degrading word!"

"Are you a Muggle born, then?" Tom asked, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"No but-"

"Then why do you care?" He asked.

"Because it's a terrible word to say! How _dare_ you use it! How _dare _you!" Minerva cried, ignoring the few turnings of heads to look at her.

"Wands away, please!" Called the librarian.

Extremely annoyed, Minerva lowered her arm and stormed out of the library. As she stalked her way down the corridors, students made way to clear her path after catching the furious expression on her face. Even the seventh years stood aside as she hastened forward. Her face was bright red, her shoulders hunched and her jaw clenched. Turning a sharp corner, Minerva, who was not looking where she was going, walked head on into an approaching person.

"Watch it!" She snapped suddenly. She quickly recoiled when she saw who it was she ran into. "Oh-Sorry professor!" She apologised.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at his infuriated student. "It's quite alright, Ms McGonagall. Say, is something troubling you."

Minerva grumbled and her jaw muscle twitched. "Just something that Riddle boy said." Suddenly, Dumbledore grasped her arm and pulled her into the abandoned classroom next to them. Startled, Minerva followed without question. As Dumbledore closed the door, he muttered a spell over the room and turned to Minerva.

"Now," He said coolly. "Tell me all about it."

"Riddle said a bad word." Minerva muttered, realising how childish it sounded. "A _terrible _word, I really don't want to say it."

"Is it that offensive word about Muggle-borns?" Dumbledore guessed. Minerva nodded. "I thought it would be I caught him the other day saying it to some of his friends."

"He is an idiot!" Minerva cried. "I mean, how_ dare_ he say that word to my face! It's an offensive, worthless, horrible word that only those pompous Slytherin _imbeciles _say who think they're better than everyone else just because they're pure bloods! He is so lucky I didn't hex him to death; a Bat-Bogey hex would have sent him running back to his Common room crying!" Minerva paced back and forth, her shoulders hunched and arms straight like crow bars. "He had a lot of nerve talking like that, saying that he didn't want to be friends with a Muggle born. Well, a Muggle born would be worth ten of him! I should have jinxed him or something, just to wipe that smug smirk of his horrid little face! How dare he say such and- _why are you laughing?" _

Minerva halted in her pace and faced Dumbledore head on. Dumbledore was wiping tears from his eyes, his sides aching with laughter.

"I'm, I'm so sorry Ms McGonagall but…" He doubled over, laughing. Minerva glared at him.

"Why are you laughing?" She demanded. Dumbledore continued laughing, clutching his sides and trying not fall from his perch onto of a desk.

"I'm sorry, my dear…" he gasped through taking breaths. "But watching you like that is highly amusing."

Minerva's temper flared. "It is not amusing! This is serious! A _first year_ is using _terrible words _that could seriously_ offend_ other students!"

Dumbledore stared at her, a small smile fused to his face. "If it upsets you this much, I will talk to Professor Slughorn and ask him to have a word with Mr Riddle."

Minerva relaxed her arms and shoulders. "Thank you," She thanked.

"Do you feel better now you've let off some steam?" Dumbledore asked. Minerva nodded. "Now then, we shall leave."

They both turned to the door, Dumbledore removed the spell her muttered earlier and swung the door open. "You know, you'll make a fantastic teacher when you're older. I'm positive you'll scare all of the pupils stiff."

"Oh ha-ha, you're so hilarious." Minerva replied sarcastically. Dumbledore merely chuckled.


	15. Second December

December – Festive Argument

Christmas was fast approaching and snow was falling from the sky in flakes the sizes of small dogs. The castle was decorated from the tallest tower right down to the dungeons with tinsel, mistletoe and holly. A humungous Christmas tree was centred in the Great Hall, decorated with thousands of shiny baubles, strings of golden tinsel and star shaped decorations.

Minerva's two friends, Jason and Tessie, had decided to go home for Christmas. Minerva however, wanted to stay at Hogwarts again. Her parents sent an owl, expressing their sadness but allowed their daughter to stay. Thrilled, Minerva promised to be home for Easter and sent them a wizard chess set for Christmas.

Minerva awoke on Christmas morning to find a small pile of presents at the end of her bed. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she pulled up the nearest present to her. She tore the wrapping paper away to reveal the same tartan tin from last year but when opened, it was full of newt-shaped ginger biscuits.

_Dear Minerva,_

_ I found these Ginger Newts when we went to Diagon Alley to pick up your books. I thought you'd like them. Merry Christmas, we miss you loads,_

_ Love from, your family_

Slipping the note back into the tin, Minerva gingerly nibbled on one of the Ginger Newts. To her surprise, they didn't taste much different from her mother's home-made ginger biscuits. Happily nibbling on her Ginger Newt, Minerva closed the tin and slipped it into her trunk. Pallas the cat jumped up onto her bed and Minerva scratched him behind the ears. The next present was a miniature model of a Tabby cat, which appeared to look a great deal like Pallas, which acted like a real cat when Minerva stroked its spine. Pallas, however, was completely fascinated by the model and instantly started batting it with his paws.

Shoeing him away, Minerva read the note:

_To Minnie,_

_ Merry Christmas! Hope you liked you present,_

_ From Jason_

Rolling her eyes, Minerva poked the model of the cat on the head and it instantly became a statue. Pallas stared at it with his amber eyes, waiting for it to move again. Minerva opened the next present which turned out to be a pocket addition of a book all about Human Transfiguration from Tessie. Overjoyed, Minerva read the context before closing the book and saving it for later.

The next package was long, slim and fairly light. Carefully tearing the paper, Minerva poured out the contents. Out of the package slid a large feather, as long as Minerva's forearm, which glowed faintly. It was slowly changing colours: one moment it was bright orange, then a darker shade and then more scarlet before turning a soft yellow. As Minerva felt the sleekness of the feather, she noticed it was slightly warm. The end of the calamus was sharpened; it was a quill! Tied around the near end of the calamus was a tartan ribbon that held a note to the feather:

_Merry Christmas, I hope you like this quill. I made it myself out of one of Fawkes' feathers, the poor bird's molting. The ribbon is if you get bored of the same red one._

_ Prof. Dumbledore_

Smiling to herself, Minerva untied the tartan ribbon and ran the silk under her fingertips. She packed away the gifts into her trunk, brushed her hair and tied it back with the tartan ribbon. She quickly dressed and hurried to breakfast.

Unlike last year, over thirty people had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. The house tables were set up and food already lay out. Twenty Gryffindors from older years were all bunched up together at the head of the table, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Six Ravenclaws sat at their table; two Hufflepuffs were having a game of wizard chess. One lone Slytherin sat at the table.

Minerva sat far from the group of Gryffindors, her back facing Tome Riddle who sat alone at his table. Still unforgiving about the word he said, Minerva refused to face him. She helped herself to two slabs of bacon and a scoop of stuffing. She pulled out her new pocket book on Human Transfiguration and started reading while feeding herself her breakfast.

By the time she cleared her plate, she had read through a whole chapter on Metamorphmagus. She glanced up at the top table. Dumbledore was currently in deep conversation with Professor Slughorn, whose eyes kept glancing up at Dumbledore's bizarre Kolpik. Smiling to herself softly, Minerva marked her page and left the Great Hall.

Seconds later, the tell-tale sound of rubber constantly hitting the stone floor in an approaching rhythm; someone was racing after her. "Minerva, wait!" Called Tom Riddle as he hurried to join Minerva's side. Pursing her lips, Minerva quickened her pace and kept her head high. The puffs of Tom reached her ears; she broke into a quick trot. "Minerva!" Tom called again.

"I'm not listening, Tom!" She replied. "I don't want to hear another word from your filthy mouth!"

"Please, Minerva, I'm sorry!" His voice sounded genuine. Pausing, Minerva turned and stared at the Riddle boy. "I didn't know it was that bad a word, it's just that everyone else in my house uses it like it's not bad! I didn't know it was a really offensive word!"

Despite the genuine tone of his pleading voice, Tom's eyes he showed no remorse for his words. "Yes Tom, you did know that it was a disgusting thing to say," Minerva snarled. "Professor Dumbledore told me he caught you saying it before!"

Tom's face immediately darkened. "Dumbledore?" He snorted. "What does he know?"

Minerva's temper blazed. "Dumbledore knows _much_ more than you do!" Minerva snapped. "He's a teacher, for God damn's sake!"

"As if he'll ever do anything useful with his life!" Tom sneered. "Teaching a bunch of kids? So what, loads of people could if they wanted to."

"And what are _you_ going to do with your life, hm?" Minerva dared. "Nothing better than what he has!"

Tom's face calmed, a small smile ghosting his soft lips. "I will do something great with my life, something that will benefit the whole world." He told. "It's a plan still in the works, maybe when we're older I'll ask you to join. That is, if you can prove yourself useful," His eyes flashed. "Or aren't a Mudblood."

Minerva clenched her fists. "I'll _never_ want to join such a low-life, self-obsessed, arrogant little _twit_ like you!" She snapped, her cheeks turning crimson with rage. "Now leave me alone! I'd like to spend the rest of my years here in Hogwarts _away from you_!"

Turning on her heel, Minerva marched up to Gryffindor tower with her cheeks flushed and arms stiff to her sides. Riddle glared at Minerva's leaving form before too turning and heading to his Common Room.


	16. Second January

January – Helping Hand

Minerva couldn't believe her luck.

The over-night snow had reached a record three feet, making it completely impossible to go outside. Snowed in, the greenhouses were out of reach to the students and only the Herbology professor could travel to each greenhouse, attempting to keep each of them warm as possible. As the plants were too chilled to work with, all Herbology lessons had been cancelled until Professor Beery had cleared paths to the greenhouses and warmed them up to a workable temperature. Seeing as it would take around a few hours to do all of the greenhouses, Minerva's first period Herbology lesson was cancelled.

Professor Dippet, who had decided not to allow the first years run around the school completely free, had placed each student with a member of staff to assist. Jason had unluckily been paired with the caretaker, Mr Ravolo, with two other Slytherins. Tessie had been sent to assist the Potions Master, Professor Slughorn.

Minerva, with the most amount of luck in the world, had been placed under Dumbledore's supervision.

She quickly raced to Dumbledore's Transfiguration classroom, unable to believe that she had been placed with her favourite subject and teacher. Strands of her ebony hair were slipping from the tight grasp of her tartan ribbon, falling into her line of sight. Swiftly pushing them away with the back of her hand, Minerva jumped the last three steps on the stairs with a high heart. She soon reached the door to his classroom, quickly tucked any loose hairs behind her ears, and knocked on the door.

Coolly as ever, Dumbledore swung the door open with a welcoming smile on his face. His azure eyes twinkled brighter as he peered down at the student before him. "Ah, Miss McGonagall, Professor Dippet sent you to assist my class, eh?"

Grinning, Minerva nodded. "Yes Professor." A smile crept onto Dumbledore's features and he welcomed her into the classroom. From the back, a grin grew onto a smug face Minerva knew too well. Her heart, which had previously been high in her throat with joy, sunk down into the pits of her stomach faster than she could register.

"By luck, I'm teaching first years Slytherin and Hufflepuff so you'll be able to help them in their practice." Dumbledore informed as Minerva perched herself on the stool by his desk. He turned to the class, holding his wand in one hand and lemon drop in the other. "Now, today we will be practising the _Avifors _spell, which transfigures an object into either a single bird or a flock of birds. Watch:"

Dumbledore aimed his wand at the innocent lemon drop that was laid in his palm. "_Avifors!"_ He muttered, turned the tip of his wand in an oval shape it sparked vivid blue. Instantly, the tiny lemon drop became a pudgy baby budgie that let out a high chirp and fluttered its miniscule wings. Various girls of Hufflepuff and Slytherin awed at the tiny bird.

"Yes, Mr Riddle." Dumbledore said as Riddle's hand shot into the air.

"Forgive my rudeness, professor, but how is learning this spell to help us in the future?" He asked.

Dumbledore merely smiled. "There are various reasons how this little spell can help you in the future, Mr Riddle." He replied calmly. "Someone may approach you with a feather in an attempt to torture you by tickling and you could simply turn it into a bird and flee while your captor is distracted. You could distract an attacker by turning something near-by into a bird-"

"Yes but wouldn't we just send jinxes or charm in their way?" Riddle interrupted.

"An attacker could easily use the Shield Charm in defence," Minerva retorted tartly. "By distracting them, you could then send either a jinx or charm at them with a higher chance of it actually hitting your target."

Dumbledore smirk grew slightly. "Exactly, Ms McGonagall." He said. "That is why, Tom, this spell could give you enough time to flee, distract or scare an attacker off."

"So if we use it in duels, why aren't we learning it in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"You obviously need to look over the definition of _transfiguration_." Minerva informed coldly, receiving a few giggles from the Hufflepuffs. Tom's cheeks turned pale pink and he clamped his jaw tightly.

Eyes twinkling mischievously, Dumbledore scanned over the room hungrily. "Mr Diggory, how about you giving this spell a try."

A pale, stick thin boy who sat in the near front of the class glanced up at Dumbledore before returning his eyes back onto the hairbrush that sat in front of him. Clearing his throat, he grasped his wand and pointed it at the hairbrush. "_Afivors!"_ He cried, moving the tip of his wand in an oval shape. A flash of pale blue sparked from the tip of the boy's wand and the hairbrush grew a beak and let out a terrified screech.

The Slytherins all bursted into fits of laughter at the Hufflepuff's failed attempt to transfigure his hairbrush. Mr Diggory's cheeks flushed red and he bowed his head. "A very good try," Dumbledore praised as he vanished the beak on the hairbrush. "Ms McGonagall, can you tell me what Mr Diggory did wrong?"

Perking up, Minerva replayed Diggory's attempt in her head. "He mispronounced the spell, mixing the v and f up." Seeing his beaten down face, Minerva's heart softened. "Very good wand work, though."

Diggory's head rose slightly, a little light in his eyes lit. "Yes, perfect wand work. Five points to Hufflepuff for that wand work, Mr Diggory, very good." Dumbledore turned to the rest of the class, scanning them with his eyes. "Would anyone else like to have a go at the spell?"

Slowly, Riddle's hand rose into the air.

"Very well, Mr Riddle." Dumbledore blessed.

Tom cleared his throat, moved his wand in a perfect oval and muttered the spell: _"Avifors!"_ A large crow melted from the alarm clock that once sat in front of Riddle. Spreading its midnight wings, it soared into the air and perched itself onto Minerva's awaiting arm. She inspected the bird closely, noting how glossy its feathers were and how beady its eyes were. It ruffled its feathers and let out a satisfying caw. As she peered at it closely, Minerva spotted a tiny second hand ticking away on the tip of the smooth beak.

"The second hand is still there." She said aloud. "And there's a faint ticking noise." Minerva waved her wand, turning the crow back into a dark alarm clock before using the Levitating charm to lift it from the ground and over to Riddle's desk.

"A very good try, Mr Riddle. Five points to Slytherin." Dumbledore praised before turning once again to Minerva. "What would you say Mr Riddle could do to perfect his crow?"

"Pronounce the 's' more as a 'z'." Minerva told. Smiling, Dumbledore nodded his approval before turning to the rest of the class.

As the first years practised the spell, Minerva and Dumbledore circled the desks like two vultures. A few times Minerva had to correct someone's pronunciation (receiving her some glares from Slytherins and thankful smiles from Hufflepuffs) or nudge their arms either lower or higher. Occasionally, she would glance up at Dumbledore who would give her an encouraging smile.

The hour passed quickly and before Minerva knew it, Dumbledore was requesting the students to pack up their things. With their text books safely in their bags and all the objects returned to their boxes, Tom Riddle's hand rose into the air.

"Professor," He called with a smug smirk. "Seeing as she thinks she's so good at it, can Ms McGonagall show us how she does the spell?"

Dumbledore turned, giving Minerva an approving wink. Glaring at Tom, Minerva raised her wand and aimed it at the Riddle Boy. Tom's eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening. A smirk crossed Minerva's face. _"Avifors!"_

Tom's wooden stool melted into a flock of tawny sparrows, which swiftly flew away to avoid Tom's cascading body. Tom Riddle hit the ground with a loud _thump_, causing giggles to rise from the mouths of the Hufflepuffs. The bell rang and Minerva quickly vanished from the room before Dumbledore would scold her, still smirking as she trotted towards Potions.

**Thank to everyone who's reviewed, favourited or alerted this story, I thank you very much :) This chapter reminds me of the old days, when I was in Year 6 we could go help the younger classes sometimes. It was like a sort of mini-work experience. R&R!**


	17. Second February

February – Tea with Dumbledore

"Aren't you coming, Minnie?" Tessie asked as she flattened any creases in her sunshine dress. Minerva peeked over her book.

"What? Um-no, no I'm not." She replied, slowly closing her book. "I'm not really into all that lovey-dovey stuff."

Tessie rolled her eyes and she pinned back a loose stray of her dark hair. "Well, I'd better be off; I'll see you after the ball!"

Swiftly, Tessie fled the tower along with most people in the school to the annual Lover's Ball. A few people did not attend and instead, spent their times wandering the grounds of finishing up on homework. Minerva had planned to be reading down by the lake, in her private spot that only she and Dumbledore knew about. However, earlier that morning, Minerva received a note from one of the school's owls:

_Dear Ms McGonagall,_

_Since it's been a year since I made my promise, I'd like for you to come to my quarters for a cup of tea (or any beverage you prefer) at three o'clock so you can meet Fawkes. Come to the portrait of Saint David, not far from the Gryffindor Common Room. The password is the flavour sweet you claim I have an addiction for._

_ P. Dumbledore_

As soon as all the chattering from downstairs had stopped, Minerva flung her book onto the far edge of her bed and quickly raced down the stairs. She exited the Gryffindor Common Room in a great pace and hurried through the corridors. She had found the portrait of Saint David just after lunch and she memorised every twist and turn in the corridors. Before Minerva knew it, she found herself staring at the portrait she had been questing for.

Firstly checking that there were no one passing by, Minerva turned to the portrait and spoke clearly: "Lemon Drops." With a silent click, the portrait swung open and gingerly, Minerva stepped inside. "Professor?" She called. Through the faint noises of whirring and clicking, a voice called out:

"Come on in, Ms McGonagall, I won't be a second." Dumbledore called.

Minerva took a deep breath before stepping through the threshold and into the craziest room Minerva had ever stepped foot in. The deep breath she took before instantly vanished as she caught sight of all the odd trinkets and machines dotted around the room. Nearly all the mechanisms were moving; some were spinning, others spat out little clouds of green smoke, another went up and down like a see-saw and another swung like a swing. Cabinets on the walls were filled with strange jars containing various items; potted plants lived on the window sills. The ceiling resembled the ceiling in the Great Hall, only Dumbledore's had planets orbiting, the sun blazing with dotted stars surrounding the inky blackness. Mouth agape, Minerva stared up as a silvery-lilac meteor soar passed, and then a faraway star suddenly exploded in a flash of hot colours. There was a fireplace, the mantel piece had various, strange-looking clocks and knick-knacks; the statue of a chestnut hippogriff glowed faintly in the light of the roaring fire. Above the fireplace was a portrait of a girl with twinkling blue eyes, a strong nose and two blonde pigtails. Judging by her looks, she couldn't have been much older than Minerva herself; the portrait of the girl smiled down at Minerva and her fingers slightly hovered as if to wave.

"Do like my quarters?" Dumbledore questioned. He emerged from a door in the back (possibly leading to a kitchen area or his bedroom), levitating two china mugs, a carton of milk and a small tub with his wand.

"It's brilliant!" She gasped, glancing around the room. "I've never seen such an interesting room in all my life! I mean, look!" She said as she pointed up to the ceiling. Dumbledore's eyes flickered up and he chuckled at Minerva's amazed face. "How on earth did you do that?"

"Magic," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling brightly. "It's a very strong spell to cast, had a bit of trouble casting it. Evidently it worked but it used to be in my bedroom too but it was so noisy, it kept waking me up." He waved his hand to the two plush chairs placed in front of the raging fire. "Sit down, sit down!" He commanded.

Gingerly, Minerva sat in the soft green chair, slightly afraid that it would blow up if she sat on it. As it didn't she made herself comfortable and glanced back up to the portrait. Dumbledore waved his wand and the bronze kettle that was previously boiling on the fire lifted into the air and floated towards them. "Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?" He asked.

"Um…hot chocolate please." Minerva replied. Dumbledore scooped two large tablespoons of a white powder into one of the mugs, filled it with water and milk before stirring it.

"I only have white hot chocolate, is that okay?" He asked. Minerva nodded.

"Yes that's fine." She answered, wondering how many flavours of hot chocolate did Dumbledore had.

"I did have loads of different flavours, I like a variety. You see Ms McGonagall; life is too short for one flavour of hot chocolate. I used to only drink milk hot chocolate but I started tasteing the dark hot chocolate, white hot chocolate, mint flavoured, caramel, hazelnut and so on and so forth." Dumbledore informed, as if he was reading Minerva's mind.

Minerva gladly took the drink, sipping the sweet taste gently. Her eyes drifted upwards to the portrait of the girl; the corners of the girl's lips twitched upwards into a smile. "Who's that?" Minerva asked bluntly. Dumbledore glanced up, the twinkling in his eyes dimmed.

"That's a portrait of my younger sister, Arianna." He answered. "She died a long time ago."

Minerva instantly bowed her head. "Sorry," She mumbled. "I shouldn't have gone poking my nose around."

"No worries, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore muttered, the twinkle in his eye slowly returning. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth and whistled. "It's about time I showed you Fawkes, after a year of waiting I'm sure you're exited."

A large bird, the size of a swan with a tail the length of a peacock's tail, soared into the room, circled above their heads before landing on the head of Dumbledore's armchair. Fawkes stared at Minerva with his beady eyes, his large feathers glowing from the faint yellow of candlelight to the warm embers of a welcoming fire. His claws sunk into the chair, his massive wings tucked in against his sides.

"Oh, he's gorgeous!" Minerva gasped. Fawkes raised his head slightly, proud at Minerva's comment.

"He may seem a bit shy at first; he's not very used to many strangers." Dumbledore informed. "I think he likes you."

Minerva smiled softly as Fawkes sang a bright tune. He glided to the arm of Minerva's chair and peered at her closely. Gingerly, Minerva raised two fingers and gently stroked the side of Fawkes' neck. The bird chirped approvingly. Heart soaring, Minerva stroked the sleak feathers with a grin plastered onto her face. Dumbledore watched on with a small smile.

**Review please! They mean a lot to me :)**


	18. Second March

March - Dumbledore's Dark History

Minerva's luck ran out in March. She hadn't seen the Riddle boy since their class together in January and Minerva had been so happy that he had finally left her alone. He was never in the library, she hadn't seen him in the corridors or on the grounds. She hadn't seen him in such a long time, Minerva was beguining to think that she would never see him again. Skipping with joy, she headed to the library.

Her stomach sunk. Sitting in her usual chair was the boy himself.

_For God's sake, _Minerva thought. _Could my luck get any worse?_

"Hello Minnie." Riddle smiled brightly as Minerva walked past. Minerva grumbled and ignored the boy. Riddle frowned slightly. "I haven't seen you since that old fool's Transfiguration lesson."

Minerva glared at Riddle. "Dumbledore is not a fool."

Riddle sniggered. "Maybe not to you but I have dirt on Dumbledore. In my eyes, it makes him look slightly better but he's still an idiot. Prancing around thinking he's better than everyone else-"

"He probably is," Minerva cut off. "He could easily beat you in a duel!"

Tom's face hardened. "Not when I learn enough magic."

Minerva laughed coldly. "I bet you couldn't even beat a baby! If there's anyone prancing around, thinking he's better than everyone else it's_ you_, Tom."

A cold smile drifted onto Riddle's face. "I bet your opinion will change once you knew about his past." Minerva frowned. "Hasn't he told his precious pet student about his sad and twisted past?" Riddle mocked in a childish voice. Minerva glared at him. After peaking over his shoulders, Riddle leaned in to the girl and drew a breath:

"He's a Muggle Hater."

"No he's not," Snapped Minerva. "Do you honestly think Dippet would employ a Muggle Hater? Especially in a school!"

Tom grinned. "He is, Minnie, and so was his father. His father is in Azkaban for a serious Muggle attack and your dear old Dumbles killed his own sister!" Minerva's stomach did a flop. _He wouldn't have...his sister is dead but he wouldn't killed her! _She thought. Tom leaned back in the chair. "From what I've heard his sister was a squib. Probably killed her out of shame. I don't blame him; I'd be a ashamed if I had a squib sister."

Minerva's temper flared. "That's because you're cruel and cold hearted, Tom. Dumbledore isn't. He would _never_ hurt his sister on purpose!"

"Wouldn't he? Then how come his own brother blamed him for the death? One of my friends is a relative of someone who attended the funeral. His own brother broke his nose and said it was all Dumbles' fault. He didn't deny it. Face it Min: your dear old Dumbles is a Muggle Hater who killed his squib sister!" Tom sneered. His eyes gleamed with triumph.

Her blood boiling, Minerva leaned in and glared into Tom's eyes, their noses almost touching. "They're just nasty rumours, Tom. Dumbledore _does not_ hate Muggles or squibs or Muggle borns. Unlike you, he doesn't discriminate."

Tom leaned in, mimicing Minerva's tone of voice. "Oh yeah? Ask him about Grindlewald. If he tells you, you'll get a shock. Turns out he's not as high and mighty as you think he is."

Fuming, Minerva turned on her heel and stormed out of the library with angry tears in her eyes. She gripped the strap of her satchel tighter as she headed up to Gryffindor tower. As she headed a few corridors down, she past the Transfiguration classroom. The soft sound of humming drifted to Minerva's ears. She halted. Only one teacher hummed so brightly. Should she? Would she dare? Silently, Minerva poked her head around the door to see Dumbledore sitting at his desk, a quill in hand and a dish of lemon drops placed before him. He hummed a merry tune as he marked some papers, the soft sunlight that poured through the windows catching the corner of his half moon glasses. He was wearing his usual abnormal robes, patterned with bird feathers and coloured a bright eletric blue that matched his eyes.

Gingerly, Minerva rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. Dumbledore's humming paused and he glanced up. A bright smile grew on his face. "Ah Miss McGonagall, how may I help you?"

"C-c-ould I...I-i-i..." Minerva gulped; she was beguinning to wish that she never had knocked. A frown knitted on Dumbledore's forehead, worry reflecting in his eyes. Embarrassed, Minerva stared at the floor. "It's nothing, sorry for disturbing you." She turned to leave, her hand reaching for the door. Suddenly, she felt herself lift of the ground and glide away from the door. Startled, Minerva watched Dumbledore place her away from the door and set her on the ground. With another flick of his wand, the door closed.

An icy feeling crept into Minerva's stomach.

"You know, Ms McGonagall, being a teacher doesn't mean that you just teach things to students." Dumbledore said as he walked towards you. "Being a teacher means that you have a responsibility to look after your students weither it's for their own safety or if they need to talk to someone about something. And you, Ms McGonagall, look as if you need to get something off your chest."

Tears brimmed Minerva's eyes. "It doesn't really matter." She spoke in a quiet voice.

"Is anyone making fun of your glasses again?" Dumbledore guessed. Blushing, Minerva shook her head. "Teasing you about anything? Name calling?" Again, Minerva shook her head.

"It's not about me," she muttered. "Tom has been saying things again about you-"

"Ms McGonagall, I honestly do not care of what Tom Riddle thinks about me. He can call me anything he likes -even a old crackpot-headed baffoon- but it does not affect me." Dumbledore said gently. He looked at Minerva in the eye and smiled softly. "You don't even need to defend me. I know that I am eccentric and I am going a bit deranged in my old age but-"

"It's nothing like that- he was saying stuff about your sister."

There was a pregnant pause. Minerva had never known silence to be so loud.

The smile on Dumbledore's face was slowly fading away. "Wh-what about my sister?" He asked. Minerva gulped and averted her eyes. "Ms McGonagall, what about my sister?" Still no reply from Minerva. Tears were now leaking from her eyes. "Minerva," Dumbledore spoke, a little bit sterner. "What did Tom Riddle say about my sister."

Minerva looked up at him, tears dripping from her eyes. "He said you killed her."

Stunned, Dumbledore's eyes went glassy and he dazily sat on the table. His eyes were fixed at the ground, his lips slightly parted in shock. Minerva gazed at him. "You wouldn't have done something like that-" She spoke but a frown appeared on her face. Dread washed over her like a tidal wave. "Would you?"

Dumbledore's eyes created tears. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it.

"Professor, you didn't kill you sister, did you?" Minerva asked quietly.

"I don't know-it was an accident." Dumbledore muttered. "I was in a duel with my brother and-" His voice faltered. "A friend. Ariana, she...she tried to stop it. She got hit by a curse. I don't know who's it was but she died."

His head bowed in sadness, tears dripping from his own eyes. Minerva felt a lump form in the back of her throat; she struggled to keep back more tears as she sat next to Dumbledore and patted his arm softly. Swiftly, Dumbledore raised his arm and wiped away his tears, trying to pull himself together. "You can cry, you know." Minerva mumbled. "I don't expect teachers to be completely hard-core; even teachers need someone to talk to sometimes."

"But it's to whom they talk to." Dumbledore muttered. "I shouldn't be revealing my dark past to a young student."

"You don't have to," Minerva replied. "I didn't mean to be poking my nose into your private business, Professor, but I just wanted to know that Tom was wrong."

"But he wasn't; for all I know it could have been my curse who hit my sister." Dumbledore buried his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have told you that; you're only a child."

Minerva puffed out her chest. "I'm not a child anymore, Professor! I'm thirteen!"

"But you're not an adult either." Dumbledore retorted. "Promise me you won't tell anyone else about this."

"Not even Riddle?"

"Not even Riddle."

Minerva hesitated. "I promise."

Dumbledore sighed with relief. "Thank you Ms McGonagall."

The two sat in silence for a few moments; Dumbledore with a sullen face and Minerva peering at him with wonder. She gave a defeated sigh and pulled out her wand and a spare button for her blouse. "I really shouldn't be doing this but-" She waved her wand and the button transfigured into a lemon drop. "You need to be cheered up."

A small smile lifted on Dumbledore's face. With a grateful thanks, he took the small sweet and ate it.

**Thanks for the reviews guys :) I do love getting feedback. And Anonymous, I'm 99.9% sure Minerva's eyes are green. It says on Harry Potter Wiki and it's a pretty accurate site. I've checked through the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Philospher's stone and it doesn't say anything about her eye colour. In the film, they're blue (Dame Maggie Smith, the brilliant acting genius she is) but I'm sure they're green in the book. **


	19. Second April

**Sorry guys for the long wait, here's April for you:**

April - Minerva vs. Riddle

"Thank you so much, Minerva." Tessie Davis said as the two hurried down the school corridors. "I completely forgot about Slughorn's essay and you know how hopeless I am at Potions."

Minerva gave her a light smile as the two turned a corner and headed towards the library. It was a warm, April afternoon and most of the school pupils and staff alike were enjoy the sunshine. As Minerva and Tessie were making their way towards the grounds, Tessie suddenly remembered her undone homework, which was due in the next day. "No problem, Tess, but no copying."

Tessie laughed, knowing how strict her friend was on cheating. "I know Min, all I want is for you to check it makes sense and stuff."

The two girls entered the library, embracing the soft lighting and the smell of old paper. There was hardly anyone there, apart from the librarian and one familiar face. They were heading towards the front desks near the fire place when Minerva stopped in her tracks, leading Tessie to accidently bump into her friend. "What's wrong, Min?"

"I think we'd better go back to the common room." Minerva grumbled. She glared at the young boy sitting in the armchair near the fire; a Slytherin with a book on his lap and a smug smirk on his face. His dark eyes flickered from Minerva to Tessie. A frown formed on his soft face and a sudden flame burned in his eyes. "Come on, we'd better go."

The two girls spun on their heels and marched out of the library. Tessie, who was confused at Minerva's sudden change of heart, struggled to keep up with her friend as she stormed ahead. Soon, it wasn't only their footsteps that echoed through the deserted corridor.

"So you prefer to be friends with that Mudblood than me?" Tom called.

Minerva and Tessie halted. Tessie pursed her lips and adverted her eyes to the floor, upset by the name called to her. Minerva, however, was fuming. She spun around, whipped out her wand and pointed it at Tom. Her nostrils flared, her cheeks reddened and her eyes seemed to burn a furious fire. Tom also held out his own wand and aimed it at Minerva.

"Take it back!" Minerva snapped. Tom clenched his jaw. "_Take it back now_!"

"No! You have no right to tell me what to do!" He retorted.

Minerva hissed. "You horrible, little boy! Apologise to Tessie _now_!"

"Never! The Mudblood doesn't-" Tom was cut off when Minerva instantly sent a Hover charm that sent him hovering off the ground.

"Apologise!" Minerva demanded.

"No!" Tom denied. He aimed his own wand. "_Tarantallegra!" _His wand gave a small flash of lime green before the spell soared towards Minerva.

"_Protego!"_ She cried as she blocked the jinx with the sheild charm. As she casted her sheild, her hover charm wore off and Tom Riddle fell to the ground. He quickly got to his feet and aimed his wand, but Minerva was ready. "_Expelliarmus!" _Tom's wand flew from his grasp and high into the air. _"Accio!" _Minerva spoke and the wand flew instantly to her grasp. She aimed her wand and glared at the Slytherin boy. "Apologise!"

_"Ms McGonagall! What is the meaning of this?" _Minerva spun around to see the Headmaster storming towards her with an angry expression on his face. "Duelling in the corridors? Against a_ first_ year?"

In a fit of fury, Minerva snapped back. "Tom started it, Sir!"

"Don't talk back to me girl! Twenty points from Gryffindor." Dippet replied hastily. "Give Mr Riddle his wand back this instant."

Hesitantly, Minerva made Tom's wand float towards him until it was firmly in his grasp. "Tom isn't entirely innocent in this either!"

"A further ten points from Gryffindor, Ms McGonagall." Dippet punished.

"But Headmaster-" Tessie pleaded.

"Silence Ms Davis."

"But Sir-"

"Don't make me take another five points from your house, Ms Davis-"

_"Tom called me a Mudblood!" _Cried Tessie. Dippet's eyes flashed anger as they flickered from Tessie to Tom.

"Is this true, Mr Riddle?" He questioned cautiously. Apparently, he seemed to hate the word almost as much as Minerva did. "Did you call Ms Davis this vile word?"

Tom glared sheepishly at the ground. "Maybe..." He replied.

"In truth, Armando, Mr Riddle did." From around the corner appeared none other than Minerva's favourite teacher, Albus Dumbledore. Her heart lifted when she saw him; she knew he would stand by her.

"Albus, how long have you been there?" Dippet asked.

"Right from when I saw Ms McGonagall and Ms Davis rush past, with Mr Riddle on their heels. He did in deed use the degrading word but in fairness, it was Ms McGonagall who pulled out her wand first." Dumbledore explained innocently. "So I think both parties are as equally guilty in this matter." Riddle glared at the Transfiguration professer weither as Minerva beamed at him.

Dippet grunted, believing his colleague. "Ten points from Slytherin, Mr Riddle. Niether of you will recieve any detentions as long as I get your word not to be duelling in the corridors again." The children muttered a round of 'yessirs'. "If I catch you again, you _will_ recieve a detention." Dippet warned before he nodded at Dumbledore and headed off in the direction he came.

Tom glared at the girls before turning and storming past Dumbledore, who stared at the girls with an amused smile on his face and an eyebrow raised. "I'll see you later." Tessie mumbled before turning and heading towards Gryffindor tower. Minerva, however, headed towards Dumbledore.

"Thank you settling the matter, Professor." She thanked.

Dumbledore smirked. "Not at all, Ms McGonagall but I would prefer it if you try and keep your temper under raps. Snapping at the head master lost us an extra ten points."

Minerva frowned, blushing. "Sorry, it got out of hand. I still think it's not fair Tom only lost ten points when _he_ started it."

"It takes two to Tango, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore wisely reminded her. "But I do fear our headmaster has a soft spot starting for Mr Riddle. It would be wise not to draw your wand onto him."

"Well, teachers shouldn't have favourites." Minerva grumbled.

"We can't help it," Dumbledore told her with a grin. "I myself might have had one or two over the years. I try not to but these students just amaze me sometimes." He gave her a tell-tale wink.

She peered at him with interest. "Are you implying something, Professor?"

Dumbledore straightened up. "No, whatever gave you that idea?" But Minerva could see the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. "So, stay out of trouble from now on and twenty points to Gryffindor for that tremendous shield charm, Ms McGonagall. Very impressed but try not to use it outside of lessons." He gave her another wink, turned and walked away into the corridors.


	20. Second May

**Remember to review, guys!**

May - Phoenix Tears

It was a warm night, which was usual for May. The students had been sent to their dormitories and the caretaker, Dionysus Ravolo, was patrolling the corridors as usual. It was at approximately twenty past one in the morning when Albus Dumbledore decided that he needed a drink of cool milk acompanied by a few ginger newts. He got out of bed, stuffed his feet into his fluffy slippers and pulled on a dressing-gown. Silently, he left his chambers and pulled out his wand. "_Lumos!"_ A silvery light sprung from the tip of his wand. With the fresh light to guide him, Dumbledore had started to head down the corridors towards the kitchens when he heard a cry echo through the empty halls.

Immediantly, Dumbledore turned and headed in the direction of the cry. He turned a few corners, determined to find the person in trouble. Another cry was sounded; Dumbledore turned towards Gryffindor tower. The soft sounds of sobbing reached Dumbledore' ears.

"Silence, girl!" Came a nasty snear. "You'll wake the whole castle up with your stupid crying!"

"Mr Ravolo?" Bellowed Dumbledore. The caretaker spun around, startled. In his hands was a small rattan cane.

"P-Professor Dumbledore!" The caretaker stuttered in surprise. Dumbledore's bright eyes slid from the caretaker down to the poor student behind him. A pair of emerald eyes, bloodshot from crying, peered at him from behind a pair of rectangular glasses and a curtain of dark hair. Tears were streaming down Minerva's face. She had her palms held out; both had a few bright red marks streaked across them.

"What seems to be the matter here?" Dumbledore asked.

A grimy finger was pointed at Minerva. "Caught a student out of bed, sir. Just doing my job: caning." A light shone in Minerva's terrified eyes; a plea for help.

"There's no need to punish Ms McGonagall, Mr Ravolo." Dumbledore informed. "Ms McGonagall is returning from an important trip to the Hospital wing. She came to me earlier feeling ill," He turned to Minerva. "I suppose Madam Pine has remedied you, Ms McGonagall?"

Minerva nodded weakly.

"But-" Mr Ravolo objected.

"There's no need, Mr Ravolo, you may carry on with your duties." Dumbledore interjected. With that, the caretaker stormed off, muttering curses under his breath. Dumbledore stepped forward; Minerva glanced up at him. Her eyes were large and fearful, her face pale with fright. Her hands were still held out, trembling. "Let me see." He muttered and took her hands in his.

She flinched. Dumbledore could see how deep the marks were, how sore they looked and imaged how painful it must have been. Minerva's hands were still shaking; it seemed her whole meek frame was trembling with them. "T-Thank you." She choked out. Her cheeks were bright red, tears still running down her frightened face.

"Come with me; I have something to fix those." Dumbledore muttered gently. He wrapped an arm around the scared child and started to guide her back to his chambers. "So, what were doing outside of your dormitory after curfew?"

"I-I went to fetch my wand from the library. I h-had left it there earlier." Minerva whispered back in a small voice. She waited patiently as Dumbledore said the password to the portrait ('Fizzywizz') and they stepped already seeing them, Minerva couldn't help but gasp once again at the marvellous machines and the images on the walls. Her eyes lingured at the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore; the girl in the portrait's lips turned upwards to a small smile but as her eyes glanced down to Minerva's hands, a small frown edged it's way onto her face.

"Sit down." Dumbledore commanded gently. Minerva obeyed and sat on the same soft green chair she sat in before. She watched as Dumbledore flicked his wand so the firepalce lit and placed a blanket over her shoudlers. "Calm down; there's nothing to be afraid of here."

"I'm not afraid." Minerva replied bluntly. "Just...in shock."

Dumbledore gave her a sad smile. he analysed the girl in front of him: small, pale with fear (or 'shock' as she'd claim) and tears still springing from her eyes. She had a tartan dressing gown on, above a pale green thin shirt and pyjama bottoms. She had no slippers; her bare feet were as pale as the moon in the dark sky. "Of course." He mumbled. "Now, give me your hands."

Without reluctance, Minerva held her palms out. Dumbledore's warm ones softly grasped her wrists and rubbed them gently. He whistled; Fawkes swooped through the door and landed on the floor, just infront of their connected hands. The magnificent bird tucked in his wings, his eyes lingering over Minerva's wounds and he leaned in closley to them. In the soft lighting, Minerva could see a small tear drip from Fawkes' beady eye and drop onto her stinging hands. She flinched but sighed with relief as some of the pain faded away. Another tear, and another fell onto her hands; the red faded, the cuts healed and the pain stopped.

Minerva stared at her hands in disbelief. "Phoenix healing powers..." She muttered softly to herself. Dumbledore smiled gently.

"Do they feel better now?" He asked. Minerva nodded.

"Thank you." She mumbled as she curled up in the chair. Dumbledore thrusted a hot mug of a milky liquid into her healed hands.

"Get that down you," He ordered. "It should calm you. Once you're feeling better I'll escort you back to the common room."

Minerva sipped the creamy liquid. Of course, it was hot chocolate. "I really mean it, when I say thank you. I mustn't have been easy to lie to a colleague."

"You're not the first student; I'm very much against the punishment of canning. It's terrible and horrible to hit children." He replied. From his pocket he pulled out a hankercheif and Dumbledore started to gently wipe away the tears still falling down Minerva's face. "I know it must have been frightful to get the cane but do try to dry your eyes, Ms McGonagall. I do hate to see you cry."

Sniffing, Minerva wiped away her tears. "I wasn't frightened." She claimed. "Just appalled."

"Count yourself lucky you aren't a boy. If you were, Mr Ravolo would have canned you on the back and take it from me, that is much more painful than the hands."

"What did you get the cane for?"

"Sneaking out after curfew. I wanted to do a bit more astronomy but I got caught, sadly." Dumbledore replied. "It did hurt but luckily I managed to heal it the next day."

Minerva grasped her mug tightly and snuggled into the blanket around her. Sipping the hot chocolate, she started to feel much calmer joined with the soft lighting and the warm presence of her Transfiguration teacher. He was twirling his wand in his fingers, watching the embers in the fireplace.

"How are you feeling, Ms McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked once more, genuinely concerned for his pupil.

"I'd really feel better if you'd call me Minerva," She said, causing Dumbledore's eyebrows to raise. "I'm not particually fond of my surname."

"Why not? It's a lovely surname!"

"Reminds me that I'm related to that silly poet." She replied sharply.

"You mean William McGonagall?" Dumbledore gasped. "Are you really related to him?"

"Distantly, from my father's side. It think he's my great uncle or something like that." Minerva retorted. "Terrible writer. Weak vocabulary, inappropriate rhythms, ill-advised imagery. Terrible, truely terrible..."

"I never knew you were a fan of poetry."

"I'm not but anyone who's that terrible at writing should never be allowed to go near a quill," Minerva sniffed. "Gives English Literature a bad name."

"And I know for sure you're a huge fan of Literature."

"A fan? If literature was a person, I'd surely be branded a stalker." This recieved a bellowing laugh from Dumbledore. A smile was lifted on Minerva's face - only to be tainted with a large yawn.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Bed I think." He spoke. "I shouldn't have kept you up this long; you'll be like an inferni in the morning."

"Not to worry, tomorrow's a Saturday- an hour of extra sleep for me." Minerva chuckled. They both got up and headed towards the door.

"I shall see you tomorrow, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore whispered. "Try not to go wandering around the castle at night, even if you do forget your wand again. Wait until morning-it's not worth the risk meeting Mr Ravolo again and I might not be there if there's a next time."

He closed the door and the two started walking towards Gryffindor tower. "I know, professor." She replied. "And thank you. For everything that is: the hot chocolate, Fawkes' tears."

"No need to thank me, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore retorted. "I don't like seeing students in pain, even if they had broken a school rule."

Minerva blushed. "I know- sorry about that."

He chuckled. "I can't exactly rant off about it - I did the same when I was a student. However, I advise not to do it again. Mr Ravolo dishes out the punishments, not me. He could do worse than a canning."

"Like what?" Minerva asked with a frown.

"Stuck cleaning the grounds, polishing the trophies in the trophy room. I did that once; extremely boring." Dumbledore explained.

"But why didn't you just use magic?"

"We had to do it the Muggle way."

"It's not that hard- I do the poilshing in my house all the time!"

"You might be used to it, growing up like a Muggle but I grew up with wizards. We used magic for everything."

"But honestly, the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore who is said to be the greatest wizard of the century but can't even do a bit of Muggle polishing?"

"It's not that I can't do it, it's just so boring-ah! Here we are!" Dumbledore exclaimed as they came towards the portrait to Gryffindor tower. Minerva frowned; the walk had been far to quick for her liking. "I bid you goodnight, Ms McGonagall."

"You too professor. Thank you again, for the Pheonix tears." She nervously twiddled her fingers and blushed. "You really are a brilliant teacher."

Dumbledore blushed in response. "I'm just lucky to have brilliant students." He gave her a grin, a wink and patted her back. "Now off to bed. You have plently of homework to do tomorrow-including that three scroll essay set by myself."

Before Minerva vanished into the hallway behind the portrait, she flashed a grin to Dumbledore. "Already complete- I hope you don't mind if I went over a scroll or two!"


	21. Second June

June - Fear of Grindlewald

_TERROR IN EUROPE_

_Fear swept through most parts of Europe earlier this morning as a large number of attacks on Muggles in Bulgaria were carried out by a mysterious army of witches an wizards. The violence occured in Sofia, Bulgaria, when a family of five Muggles were brutally murdered with the killing curse, several other on-lookers were also cursed and hexed. As officals arrived onto the scenes, the group of wizards turned on them and a raging battle began. While the officals battled hard, none were killed though some stunned from both sides. The wizards who attacked the officals and Muggles while crying: 'For the greater good' or 'Muggle subserivence'. This has caused many outbreaks of panic through out Bulgaria and the rest of Europe, in fear that the world may be on a brink of a Wizarding War. _

_This is not the only signs of the army: there have been many reported attacks to Muggles throughout Europe, with the strange symbol of a triangle with a circle and a single line running through it cropping up at nearly every crime scene. The wizards also at the brutal attack in Bulgaria were also reported to have sent this symbol up into the sky and wear it around their necks. _

_One wizard who was taken into custody said that 'His plan is for the greater good; the Muggles don't deserve freedom.' Who is 'he'? 'He' is suspected to be none other than Gellert Grindlewald, who-_

Minerva dropped the paper in shock, watching it as it as soaked by the milk of her cereal. Beside the colums of moving writing was a picture of a man with his blonde hair combed back, hypnotysing blue eyes and waxy skin. He had a smug smirk on his face, a gleam of amusemant in his eyes. There was a mass of stubble on his chin, making him look slightly older than his youngish form. Her jaw hung from it's hinges, confusion swirled around in her mind. She instantly thought back to her and Tom's argument in the library_:"Oh yeah? Ask him about Grindlewald. If he tells you, you'll get a shock. Turns out he's not as high and mighty as you think he is." _

Grindlewald. The name had cropped up now as a horrible wizard attacking Muggles 'for the greater good'. Tom said he was connected with Dumbledore. Why would a brilliant wizard like Dumbledore be connected to such an evil wizard?

She looked up to the teacher's table; Dumbledore, who was there only to seconds ago, was gone and Headmaster Dippet was reading over the news paper he had left behind. Fearful, Minerva glanced around to spot him. Dumbledore was storming past the Slytherin table and out of the Great Hall. One again, Minerva wanted to seek the truth.

"Sound's awefully terrible." Tessie Davis mumbled her dark eyes flickered over the _Daily Prophet_. Quickly, Minerva snatched the newspaper from her friend's hands, got up and raced after Dumbledore.

"Professor!" Minerva called. Dumbledore did not reply and stormed around the corner. Minerva followed. "Professor! Professor Dumbledore!"

She chased him all the way to the portrait of Saint David, where Dumbledore mumbled his password and then slammed it behind him as he entered his chambers. Minerva skidded to a stop and glared at Saint David. "Fizzywhizz!" She said. The portrait didn't open. "Lemon drops! Liquorice! Pumpkin pasties!"

As the portrait swung open, Minerva wasted no time musing over how he had named his passwords over treats and leapt right into the chambers, closing the portrait behind her. "Professor!" She called. He was sitting on his usual armchair, glancing up to her in surprise.

"Ms McGonagall, leave at on-" Dumbledore ordered dangerously calmly but Minerva interupted.

"You know him, don't you?" She demanded as she flung the newspaper onto his lap. Dumbledore's sparkly blue eyes flickered from the photograph of Grindlewald and back up to Minerva.

"How did yo-"

"I can tell," She lied. She thought it be better to leave Riddle out of it. "You know him, don't you?"

Dumbledore's face darkened with regret. "Yes, I did." He picked up the paper, glanced at the picture before flinging it into the fire and watching it burn away. "He used to be a friend of mine when I was younger. He was the third person in the duel which killed Ariana. He fled after she was struck. I've never heard from him since."

Minerva sat on her armchair, watching Dumbledore stare sadly into the fires. "Then do you know what he's up to?"

"I have an idea, but it's too early. If he wanted to attack those Muggles he would have been there too. People were acting too early." Dumbledore sighed.

"Do you ever think he'll come to Britain?" Minerva asked gently.

"I doubt it. He'll be too afraid of me. He think's I'm more powerful than him. He always did say so."

"Then you must stop him, if you're the one who he's afraid of."

"But if I leave, Britain will be in danger."

"And if you stay, the rest of Europe, and probably the world, is at war." Minerva muttered. "How can someone so brilliant ever have been friends with someone so-" She glanced into the embers to see the waxy face of Grindelwald crumple into ash. "-evil?"

"Because...I was a foolish young man. I was trapped at home with the responsibility of careing for my sister. I wanted to go on adventures, travel the world but...I couldn't. It ate me up and I regret ever thinking it. But he, Grindelwald, seemed interesting and understanding. We became friends and he wrapped me under this...imagery. He promised me a better world, where I would be free from the responsibility of caring for my sister. I was stupid enough to believe him. I wish I never met him."

Minerva swallowed. "When you say you believed him...did you- help him?"

Dumbledore's eyes were dull. "No. My brother managed to confront me before I could do anything stupid. However, when Grindelwald got involved..." He trailed off, his sight flickering up to the painting of his sister. She was frowning and bowed her head.

"Professor," Minerva mumbled. "Do you think...there will be war?"

"If I am honest, Ms McGonagall," Dumbledore waved his wand and the fire extinguished. All that remained of the newspaper was a pile of ash. "There will absolutely be war."


	22. Second July

July - Goodbyes

It was July already and Minerva couldn't believe it.

She spent most of her time wandering the grounds and with her nose stuck in one of her books. She bumped into the Riddle boy now and again but (thankfully) was only treated with a glare. Sometimes, Minerva would head down to the lake and sit on her normal branch in her tree, reading.

"Good afternoon, Ms McGonagall!" Someone called.

Minerva peeked over the top of her book and a grin broke out on her face. "Afternoon, professor!" She replied. Sliding her book back into her satchel, Minerva swiftly climbed back down to the ground.

"Another year gone," Dumbledore chuckled. "And you're growing up so fast. I swear on my hat that you were three inches small last year."

They sat down on the pebbled bank, staring out to the calm lake. "I've been practising my patronus." Minerva mentioned.

"How is it?"

"Just enough to scare away a spider."

Dumbledore laughed warmly. "You'll get it right one day."

"Hopefully before my OWLs, maybe casting a patronus can get me a few extra points on my Defence Against the Dark Arts exam." Minerva sighed. "My mother easily did it last year, after only a couple of tries. For over a year I've been practising and I've had hardly nothing!"

"Your mother is more experienced-"

"She's casted one spell in the last fifteen years!"

"And she is older, with more happy memories." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Like I've said before: you're young and when you learn to control and use your magic more, you'll be able to do it. Don't let it get you down, Ms McGonagall. It takes a lot of skill, experiance and effort to create a patronus and you'll earn it when you're older. For now, learn what your classmates are learning-"

"But I've already learnt what they've learning, I've already started reading Fourth Year text books!"

Dumbledore chuckled as he gazed over the young girl next to him, her face red with frustration. "You have really grown a lot over the last year and not just in height. You're more brazen."

Sighing, Minerva ran her finger through her hair. "Sorry, I'm just so frustrated."

"I understand. You're used to getting spells right after a few times. I was the same; when I first encountered a spell I couldn't get right I remember getting so worked up about it, I started blaming my wand and called it a 'stupid stick'. Looking back on it, I was so foolish."

Minerva let out a light laugh. "I thought you were wise, Professor."

"Ah, but to be old and wise you must be first young and foolish."

"Very good philosophy."

"Thank you. I do try." They looked out onto the lake, watching a flock of birds fly lowly over it's surface. There was a faint chatter from the castle of students as they roamed the grounds on the hot day. Dumbledore picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the water. "I do believe you will be attending Hogsmeade when you come back, am I right?"

"Hopefully sir. I haven't asked my parents yet." Minerva took her glasses from her nose and wiped them in the sleeve of her jumper. "I hope they let me go. Is it nice in Hogsmeade?"

"Oh yes, wonderful. You haven't lived until you try a Butterbeer and I'm sure you'll enjoy Honeydukes. Upon my request, they now have a supply of Lemon Drops-"

"Oh really Professor." Minerva threw back her head and laughed. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, amused.

"I've seen your brother on the list for the next first years."

"Malcolm? Oh yes, he's coming. Good luck with him. He's a bit of a handful."

"In what way?"

"He pouts. Likes to do things on his own. He's annoying too. He once shaved poor Pallas."

Dumbledore grinned. "I look forward to meeting him. I suppose you want him to be in our house?"

"No."

"No?"

"I want to rub it in everytime we beat him at Quidditch." Minerva replied. "I'm thinking of trying out for Chaser."

"Really? I've never seen you on a broom before."

"Jason wants me to sign up with him. He's going to Chaser too, because Jemima and Olivia are leaving so there's two spaces."

"Good luck to you, I'm sure you'll do brilliantly."

"Thank you." Minerva thanked. "Do you happen to have the time on you?"

Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch. "Twenty to two, why?"

Sighing, Minerva stood up and brushed down the dirt from her skirt. "I promised to Tessie with her potions homework."

"Not cheating I hope."

"Of course not!" Snapped Minerva as she slung her satchel over her shoulder.

"Alright, I was just joking, no need to get defensive!" Dumbledore chuckled. "I'll see you at dinner, Ms McGonagall!"

"Goodbye professor." Minerva replied as she headed away from their secret area and up towards the path back to the castle. As she stepped onto the gravel path, a silver Phoenix flew over her head. She snorted as the Patronus circled her and flew back down to the backing.

"Show off."


	23. Third September

September - Meet Malcolm

"Hurry up, Malcolm!"

"I'm going as fast as I can, Min!"

"Well go faster, you don't want to miss your boat! Look, there's the grounds keeper! Just follow him down to the boats, okay?"

"Yes."

"Right, got your cloak?"

"Yes-"

"Your wand? Is your trunk labelled?"

"Yes, Minnie. Gosh, you're beguinning to sound like mother!"

"I do_ not_! Now hurry up!"

Minerva watched her brother run towards the grounds keeper, his robes swaying around his ankles and his jet-black hair bouncing as he ran. Turning, Minerva stuck her fingers between the bars of Pallas' cage, stroking him on the head. "Come on, Minnie! You'll miss the carriage!"

"Coming!" Minerva cried back to Jason. She hurried over to their carriage, climbing in and it started to pull itself up along the road.

"Had a good Summmer, Minnie?" Jason asked as Minerva squeezed into the seat next to Tessie. Minerva hesitated to answer.

In truth, her holidays hadn't gone too well. The first few weeks were fine, explaining to Malcolm about the rules of Hogwarts, describing the lessons and teachers to him before lending him her copy of _Hogwarts: A History. _It was when her parents revealed her father's Muggle parents would be staying for the rest of the holidays that Minerva's holidays took a turn for the worst. Her mother locked away all of Minerva's magical belongings and gave her a strict warning on not to use magic if she could help it. She told her brothers not to mention anything about their abilites or Minerva's magical school.

When Minerva's grandparent's did arrive, she knew that it was going to be a long summer. First off, they didn't seem to like Minerva's mother. They ignored her most of the time, snarled and sneered when they had to talk to her. Minerva's father was not pleased and during one night during their first week there, Minerva could hear the bellowing voice of her father scolding his parents for being so rude. They didn't mind the boys; both had inherited their father's deep brown eyes and strong facial structures. However, Minerva took her mother's bright green eyes and flawless face with high cheekbones. They winced whenever they saw her but tried to cover it with a smile.

Minerva didn't like them, despite the presents they brought with them. They greeted her with various dresses and dolls, which Minerva showed no interest in. Their sheepdog, Jet, kept barking during the nights and chasing poor Pallas up the trees in their garden. A furious Minerva smacked him on the nose when he snapped at her beloved cat's tail but unluckily, her grandmother saw it and scolded her for 'abusing her dog'. That's when Minerva's temper flared and she lashed out against her grandmother, telling her to keep her 'savage animal' in order. As a result, Minerva was punished and had all her beloved books taken from her; first she had lost her magic books and now her Muggle books, the ones that kept her busy.

Bored out her mind, Minerva found herself climbing the trees in her garden but her mother soon told her to stop it as it was 'unlady-like'. So instead, Minerva sat on the old swing and sat there, staring out into the distance of grey sea and lush fields. It was so boring; she had to mind her manners around her grandparents, do her homework quickly when they were out talking a walk by the shore. She was left almost alone when her mother and Malcolm went down to London for the weekend to buy his Hogwarts things. They had to lie that they had gone to get his uniform and books for a boarding school for boys somewhere in Yorkshire. That was another thing Minerva didn't like going: lying.

"Where do you go for your education, Minerva?" Asked her grandfather.

"Glenalmond College, in Perthshire." She would reply.

"Have you learned much there?"

"Yes sir, a lot."

"Had the cane?"

"Yes sir, once."

"What for?"

"I got lost on my first day."

She hated it. She wished that she could just tell them. She imagined it a few times:

"_Where do you go for your education, Minerva?"_

_"Hogwarts."_

_"What a peculiar name! What do they teach?"_

_"Magic."_

_"Magic? Don't be so dull, child. There's no such thing as magic." _And then Minerva would whip out her wand and preform a perfect patronus, scaring away her grandparents and they'd be so frightened they'd never come towards them again.

But she didn't. Instead, Minerva pretened that she attended a both-sex school and learnt the three 'R's, played lacrosse. Her grandparents' believed her but weren't too pleased with hearing she attended a school with boys.

"Boys!" Her grandfather cried. "Wandering around with boys, flattering her until she's love-sick. You know what happens, don't you? She'll be coming home a fallen woman next, Robert! Gurtrude and I know a wonderful girl school not far from Aberdeen. Our neighbour's girl goes there, a wonderful school she said. We'll pay all the fees!"

Thankfully, her father turned down their offer. Minerva, angry at her grandparents thinking so lowly of her, headed up to her room and glared at the frocks and dresses bought by them that hung in her wardrobe. She only came back down when there came a crashing sound from the kitchen; it turned out Jet the sheepdog had found his way in and knocked over the crockery cabinet.

Minerva forced a smile to Jason. "Smashing." She replied, not wanting to explain the whole story. "And yours?"

"Brilliant!" Jason grinned. "My parents took me and my sister to watch the Quidditch World Cup! It was amazing, you won't believe how fast they were going!"

Minerva chuckled at her Quidditch-obsessed friend.

"Mine was okay," Tessie smiled meekly. "I went to see my aunt down in Egypt. We got to go in some old tombs and stuff."

The three of them chattered until their carriage came to a stop. They all jumped out and hurried into the Great Hall, taking their seats. Looking around, Minerva spotted Tom Riddle sitting at his table, looking so thankful and excited. He didn't seem to notice Minerva, thankfully.

As everyone took their seats and all calmed down, the doors burst open and Minerva's favourite teacher lead a string of first years through the doors. Albus Dumbledore still looked the same age as he did when Minerva first arrived at Hogwarts. His auburn beared had been trimmed, his matching hair was pulled into a short hippogriff tail but would have grazed his shoulders if it had been down. His azure eyes still twinkled merrily as he lead the first years to pool at the steps before an old hat sitting on a creaking stool.

The hat sang it's song, describing each house and praising it's own cleverness. The Hall errupted into cheers once it was finished and Dumbledore started to read the list of names from his scroll. Millicent Brookes was sorted into Hufflepuff, Jean Carter and Ingrid Cookson went into Ravenclaw. Jacob Dimitrius became the first Gryffindor, with Kelly Edwards falling into Slytherin.

The list continued, from Graves to Hills, King to Lewis.

"McGonagall, Malcolm."

Little Malcolm, wearing a robes slightly too big for him, stepped up to the stool. His deep brown eyes were soon hidden by the Sorting Hat as it pondered on which house to be sorted in. A minute passed, and another and Minerva began to think her brother had inherited her Hatstall. As his time reached three and a half minutes, the hat screamed out:

"RAVENCLAW!"

Minerva clapped the loudest as her younger brother hurried to the table next to Gryffindor. Malcolm was flushed as he took his seat, glad it was finally over.

The list contined: Monors, Perkins, Roberts, Thomas, Williams and Yowls. As Luke Zackery took his palce at Hufflepuff, Dumbledore rolled up the scroll and took away the hat and stool. After a short greeting speech by their Headmaster, Dippet, the plates before them filled themselves with wonderful dishes. As Minerva helped herself to a juicy slice of beef, she glanced up to the head table, where Dumbledore was drinking from his goblet. He caught her eye and gave her a grin.

As Minerva grinned back, she knew it was going to be a good year.


	24. Third October

**Hello! Sorry about no update for a long time, with Christmas and trying get back into the routine of school, I haven't had the time. Even now I should be doing homework for Media Studies and Welsh but I'm here, writing because I'm a rebel like that. Note that Minerva on the Quidditch Team is Canon. I think.**

October - Quidditch Try-Outs

It was a terrible day.

Minerva stood on the Quidditch Pitch, her teeth chattering. The soles of her boots were caked in mud from the pitch, her Quidditch jersey and trousers damp from the rain. Her hair was in a long, french braid trailing down her back, her glasses abandoned for goggles. Her fingers were numb from the cold but they clutched her broomstick tightly.

Jason, who stood next to her, shuddered as another gust of wind caused his curls to bounce on his head. "Bloody freezing," He muttered to himself. "Better get used to it though, if we want to play Quidditch."

"I very much want to play Quidditch." Minerva replied as they watched two second-years soar on their broomsticks above, passing the Quaffle back and forth. One of them dropped it and it fell to the ground and landed with a _splat! _Minerva winced as the mud it landed in splattered everywhere- and right into the face of the Captain as he attempted to fetch the Quaffle.

The whistle sounded and as the two second years began to land, Minerva and Jason mounted their broomsticks. "Good luck!" Called Tessie from the stands, sitting there under the protectivity of an umbrella.

Jason and Minerva kicked off the ground and soared upwards. The Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Harry Prince, joined the two and flung the Quaffle to Jason, who caught it with ease. "Good luck you two- just pass the Quaffle to each other and try not to drop it!"

It seemed easy-if the Quaffe hadn't been so slippery from the rain and mud. Luckily enough, Minerva only dropped it once but dived and caught it again. They tried from all different angles: side by side, above each over, diagonally, further apart, close together. They had a go at chasing: Minerva was given the Quaffle and sped towards the goals while Jason attempted to ram her and steal the Quaffle. He succeeded in doing so; Jason knocked Minerva on the elbow and the Quaffle slipped out. As Jason caught it, roles were reversed and it was Minerva's turn to chase.

Of course, she failed to knock it out of Jason's grasp. He had inherited his parent's skills at Quidditch and kept the Quaffle tightly snug in the crook of his elbow. It almost slipped out but Jason's quick reflexes caught it again.

Finally, they tried scoring. Jason, again, had very good aim. He got almost all of them in but one bounced on the ring and fell. Minerva missed two; one also bounced off the ring and another was blocked by a try-out keeper.

The whistle blew and Jason and Minerva both dived down to the stands, landing with grace. Tessie hurried over to them, gripping her umbrella tightly. "That was brilliant, guys!"

Jason grinned. "Thanks Tessie!"

The three hurried away from the Quidditch pitch and headed for the showers. Tessie and Minerva entered the girls' bathroom and Minerva glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Locks of her dark hair had fallen from her braid and was plastered to her damp forehead, mud spread over her face from where she had wiped her brow from the rain. As she stripped and entered the shower, Tessie pulled out Minerva's uniform.

The hot water washed away the mud and rain, making Minerva feel more refreshed and cleaner. She scrubbed soap on her hands, fingernails and her scalp before rinsing it all out under the shower. Switching the tap off, Minerva wrapped a towel around her and hurried around the corner. Thanking Tessie, she grabbed her uniform and started dressing herself.

"So, do you think you've made the team?"

"Not sure," Minerva replied as she buttoned up her blouse. "The ones we saw weren't too good. The first years could barely fly! I didn't see many other years trying out for Chaser."

"I think you're both on the team. There were a bunch of fifth years going for Chasers but they were all just fooling around. I think they were there to try and get a bit of Harry's attention. They all say he's good looking."

Minerva frowned. "Is he?" She asked, thinking back to his blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"I like his hair. Straw colour but it looks a bit on the dry side."

"How can hair look dry?"

Tessie laughed. "You're not into the whole hair-and-boys stuff, are you?"

"Nope, I prefer academic conversations." Minerva grinned. "But I'm not that blind."

"Oh?"

"I can tell you fancy Jason."

Tessie's cheeks burned red. "Min, really? We're only thirteen!"

"Couples are getting younger and younger these days. My parents met when they were seventeen." Minerva sighed. "There will be couples younger than us one day, Tess. They'll be there in corners kissing away and holding hands in the corridors."

"And I suppose you'll be there to tear them apart, hmm?"

"Probably." Minerva stuck her feet into her shoes and started to re-do her braid. "Come on, Jason will be waiting for us up in the Common Room. You can oogle at him all night then."

Tessie playfully hit Minerva on the shoulder and the two walked arm-in-arm up to their tower. Upon entering the tower, they rejoined with Jason in the cosy armchairs near the fireplace. Other students passed, some on their way up to the dormtories or rushing past and out of the portrait. A pair of first years were having a loud game of exploding snap, another student older than Minerva scribbling away on a scroll. Pallas the cat slunk down the staircase and leapt onto Minerva's lap; the girl scratched her cat behind it's ear and stroked it's spine. Rain splattered against the windows but it's melody was droned out by the exploding snap. The fireplace kept the room warm, contrasting against the chill from outside. Minerva's damp hair dried almost instantly, with the aid of her wand.

"I think we might have made the team, Min." Jason fidgeted in his chair. "Though, the sixth years were pretty good. Do you think Harry would want us over them?"

Minerva snorted. "You've definetly made the team, Jason. Everyone knows you're probably the best Quidditch player ever in this house. Harry would be an idiot not to choose you."

"You'll make it too."

"Not likely. I scored hardly any of those loops."

"So? You were pretty good at passing. What good is a Chaser in scoring if they can't get the ball from the opposite team? In the Holyheads, Mom said there was one chaser who never scored a single goal but he was a bloody good passer. The opposite team hardly ever got the Quaffle."

Sighing, Minerva glanced at the tiny clock on top of the mantelpiece above the fire. "I'd better go and return my book to the library. Supper is in twelve minutes, I've got time."

Minerva excused herself as she rose from her seat, Pallas dropping onto the floor and scampering away. After quickly snatching her book from her bedside table, she hurried down to the library to return it. She left two minutes later and started to head towards the Great Hall.

"Afternoon, Ms McGonagall." Albus Dumbledore appeared at Minerva's side, smiling softly as his azure eyes twinkled. "You've got mud on the back of your neck."

Minerva frowned and felt her nape. It felt dry but as she peered at her fingers to inspect them, her tips were smudged brown. Dumbledore waved his wand and Minerva's nape and fingertip tingled. Within an instant, the mud was gone.

"I'm guessing you've been outside in this terrible weather."

"Yes sir, Quidditch try-outs."

"How did it go?"

"Well enough, I hope."

"So, what position are you going for?"

"Chaser, sir."

"Chaser? Very good. I myself was a Keeper for three years- until the Quaffle broke my nose. I advise you never to block the Quaffle with your face."

"I'll remember that, sir." Minerva chuckled. The two stepped into the Great Hall and wished eachother a good meal before breaking apart to sit at different tables. Tessie and Jason were already there, sitting at their usual place at the top of the table.

Jason grinned at her. "Do you ever go a day without talking to him, Minnie?"

Minerva blinked. "Who?"

"Dumbledore!"

"He's a teacher, not as if I can aviod him the entire time I'm at Hogwarts for."

"Well no but you two talk all the time."

"Because I can get a more of an actual conversation out of him than with you two." Minerva laughed

"We're conversing aren't we?" Tessie interupted.

"I ment a more _sensible _conversation about _interesting_ topics, like about _Transfiguration." _This led to both Tessie and Jason groaning. They hated it when Minerva started to ramble on about her favourite subject and refused to shut up.

"Smartarse." Jason insulted jokingly.

"I'm not a smartarse, you're both stupid." Minerva retorted with a smile. Her two friends smiled back.

**REVIEW! **


	25. Third November

**This chapter is basically an insight into Tom's thoughts and what he's planning and we see Minerva from his view. Tom does not fancy Minerva, after all Voldemort couldn't love, and Minerva does fancy him either (I'm too much of a MMAD fan for that). It's short but its all building up soon...believe me. We get to see more MMAD up soon (YAY) but at the moment, Min's too young (she's fourteen!). **

November - Tom's Fantasy

He admitted she was beautiful but it wasn't her marvellous looks he was after. She was smart, a genius even. She aced every test she had done, could do a spell right after being introduced to her. She was going to grow up into a very powerful witch. A useful witch.

Tom knew what he wanted to become, who to be. He had already influcened a few students of his own year and those below him. His house praised him; although they may bully and harass the other years, the Slytherins sticked together and even helped out the younger years. They knew how good Tom was with a wand. He had already been invited to the Slug club and Minerva had not.

The fact Tom was a Slytherin might have influcened Slughorn but neverless, he was chosen over her. Did she know? Probably. Did she care? Definetly not. She walked around the school like the perfect witch she was, her hair tied back in a variety of beatiful ribbons. He wondered where she got those ribbons. She had a new one every October and Christmas, like a pattern.

He'd heard some teachers talk about her. The fool Dumbledore did nearly every lesson: "The fastest person to learn this spell was Minerva McGonagall, in a total time of five seconds..." "If any of you need help with your homework, don't be afraid to seek out anyone from the older years, like Minerva McGonagall from the third year Gryffindor house..."

_Minerva, Minerva, Minerva. _She was such a pet: loyal to her friends and teachers. She was a Mudblood lover so it would be hard to try and as her to join him.

To rule the world free of Muggles and Mudbloods...it would seem alot nicer with her by his side.

She was perfect, the ideal follower. Most of his Slytherin goonies were as thick as two short planks. No wonder they listened to the younger years; they were equally as stupid.

She would be powerful, enough to take down anyone who stood in their way. She would be the perfect pawn, doing as he commanded. When he ruled the world, she would be the greatest...queen? No, Tom didn't have friends, yet alone lovers. Ties like that could get him killed one day. Love was pathetic. Yet...

Tom's thoughts were always on her as he wandered around. He had tried sucking up to her but she saw through that, he had tried hating her and appearing mysterious but she carried on like normal and seemed happy about it-

Tom paused as he walked across the grounds towards the forbidden forest to read one of his restricted-section stolen books. Glancing over down the grounds, he saw Minerva sitting on the ground with her wand out. Her face was deeply concertrated and she was muttering something under her breath. Whisps of white sprouted from her wand. He frowned; _was she having spell trouble?_

Cautiously, Tom approached her. "Hello Minerva." _Call her Minerva, she hates Minnie. _He thought to himself.

Minerva turned around and glared at him questioningly. "Hello Tom, what are you doing here?"

"I was just looking for somewhere to read. The library was a bit too full." He lied. Minerva raised an eyebrow?

"A full library?"

"Mr Ravolo was trying to get people out of their houses and outside again. Something about it being a fine day. Most of them hid in the library."

Minerva eyed him curiously before believing his story and turning away from him. "So why are you here talking to me?" She questioned.

"I was just hoping to ask if...we could start again?"

She didn't say anything but turned around again. "Pardon?"

"I realise I was wrong last year. You see, I'm still new to the wizarding world and...the other Slytherins were always insulting Muggle-borns so I thought that was right. I really didn't understand, Minerva. They told me to ignore you, saying you were a blood traitor and blood traitors are bad people. I honestly was immarture. But I've done some reading over the holidays and I've matured too. I understand now and I am sorry for the things I said about your friend. I didn't understand but now I do."

It was an almost perfect lie. Was he sorry? No. Did he plan on stopping his plans? Never. All he needed was her on his side. He was still young but if he could just one day win her over, when they're older...

"Do you promise never to say things like that again?" Minerva questioned.

Tom nodded. "Promise." He lied.

"Okay, I forgive you." She replied. Tom grinned.

"Thank you, Minerva." Tom turned and started to hike towards the forest. "I'll see you later."

Minerva mumbled a reply before turning back to concertrating. Tom hung back to catch the spell: _"Expecto Patronum." _

Nothing but a white whisp came from the tip of her wand and Minerva growled, annoyed. Tom smirked. Maybe she wasn't as perfect as he thought.


	26. Third December

December - Question of Animagi

Minerva had always been curious. It wasn't her fault. She had been kept away from the magical world all her life and wanted to learn as much as she possibly could. She had missed out on so much and felt as if she had been left behind. Everthing she read she wanted to learn.

So when she read about more about Animagi than they had learnt in class, she wanted to learn it.

Her knuckles rapped against the wooden door of Dumbledore's classroom, knowing he was inside. Maybe she knew because there was three feet of snow outside and hardly possible to leave the castle. Partly because it was a weekday and she knew that Dumbledore only went out on weekends. Mostly because she knew that during the time between dinner and the final lesson of the day, he would be marking while eating Lemon Drops at his desk in the classroom.

His voice called for her to enter.

She confidently pushed open the door, gripping the huge book, which was as wide as a surfboard, under her arm. He looked up and his twinkling blue eyes sparkled. "Ah, Ms McGonagall. Our new chaser."

She smiled warmly. "Hello Professor."

"How may I help you?" Dumbledore asked as he motioned Minerva to come closer. He waved his hand to a small dish on his desk. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you," replied Minerva. She fidgeted with her book. "I'd like to learn something, sir."

Dumbledore grinned. "Well, I guess that's why I am here." He leaned forward and laced his finger together. "What is it you'd like to learn?"

"Animagi." Minerva said confidently.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose."Well, Ms McGonagall, you've shown no trouble on understanding Animagi in lessons-"

"Not about Animagi, professor." Minerva interupted. "About how to become one."

"I don't quite understand, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore frowned. "I've already explained about how someone learns-

"No, Professor. I'm asking you to teach me how to become an Animagus."

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I feared as much." He mumbled. He ran his fingers through his auburn hair and looked at Minerva. Her hair was braided into a plait, tied with an emerald green ribbon he gave her for her birthday two months ago. Her bright green eyes were safely behind a pair of rectangular spectacles, the pair she was teased mercilessly about in her first year.

"You do realise how difficult it is to become an Animagus?" He questioned.

"Yes sir but, I've read all about them in this book-" She slammed her heavy book on his desk and flipped it open to the right page. "I've read over the training again and again and I think I can handle it."

"But you a very young, very young indeed. So many things can go wrong-"

"But look at what can happen if I do it right! My senses could get sharper, my reflexes quicker and I could get more marks on my exams!" She cried, running her index finger down the collums of advantages written in tiny print.

"It takes years and years to learn how to become an animagus, Ms McGonagall."

"Then the sooner I start the better."

"You're too young, your body is still growing. The Ministry reccomends that you do you start Animagus training until you've at least finished puberty."

Her heart dropped. "I'd be out of Hogwarts then!"

"And you can contact me then."

"But what if you won't answer!"

"I will. I always answer people asking for help and advice."

"But not for training!"

"If you say who you are I will, I promise."

"What if you can't remember who I am?"

"I will. It's very unlikely I will forget you, Ms McGonagall. You are one of the most brilliant students I've ever had."

The comment touched Minerva's heart but she still felt desperate to learn. "But if you do, I won't get you to teach me. I don't want anyone else. You're the only person I trust with this subject."

"Not even the professionals?"

"Half of the articles in _Transfiguration Today _are wrong." She sighed and glared at the table.

Dumbledore laughed loudly. "How do you know if a years of research from a professional Transfigurist with Os in the OWLS and NEWTS are incorrect?"

"Iris made a mistake in one of her equations. It's meant to be 3.45, not 3.54." Minerva blushed. "I learnt basic maths at home. But please sir, I really want to be an Animagus."

Dumbledore smiled at the curious and brilliant student before him. "You're trying to run before you can walk, Ms McGonagall."

"Wildebeest do."

"Yes and you are human, Ms McGonagall. Wait until you stop growing until you start trying to become and Animagus. You've still got alot of growing to do." To prove his point, he patted Minerva on the head to show the obvious height distance between them. She was still waiting for her growth spurt.

Minerva huffed and glared at him. "You know I hate being treated like a child."

"You still are a child."

"I'm fourteen!" She declared. "I'm pratically a woman!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "You're still underage therefor you are a child."

Minerva sighed, defeated. "So you're not going to teach me Animagus?"

"Not now, no. Not until you've finished puberty."

"When will that be?"

"Twenty one years at the latest."

Minerva groaned. "Are you sure you can't teach me just...six years early?"

"No. "

Crossing her arms, Minerva burned holes at the floor. "Fine, I'll wait. But don't think I won't stop pestering you until you do."

With his smile widening, Dumbledore watched her pick up her book and tuck it under her arm. "Of course, Ms McGonagall. Good afternoon to you."

Minerva repeated the same to him and turned to march out of the door. Half way through the doorframe, she turned to him. "For God's sake, call me Minerva!"


	27. Third January

January - Butterbeers with Dumbledore

"Here you go," said the shop owner as he handed Minerva a small bag of Ginger Newts. "Two galleons please."

Minerva handed over two golden coins before giving the shop owner a smile, grabbed her bag tightly and walked out of the shop. She trudged back out into the snow, cursing as her previously dried feet got soaked again. A chill ran down her spine as she fought her way through the sludgy streets of Hogsmeade and back onto the road towards the castle. Not many people had dared gone out in the cold chill which is extactly why Minerva did. She had visited the village before but found fighting through the huge crowds of students such a hassle and decided not to visit and instead enjoy the much quieter enviroment of the castle.

Now nearly everyone had decided not to venture out into the knee-deep snow, Minerva thought it was now that would be the best time to get out and buy some things. She put at least three pairs of socks on, grabbed her wooliest mittens and her thickest coat before wrapping her Gryffindor scarf around her neck at least three times. Grabbing her purse and her wand, Minerva braved the cold and the snow and fought against the harsh snow down to the village.

She had visited each shop, purchasing a few ingrediants for her potions, a couple of sweets for her younger brother and even bought an extra pair of mittens to wear as her fingers were icy cold. She decided to aviod the Three Broomsticks, even though Tessie and Jason had advised her to go and taste their Butterbeers, but after seeing most of the students go inside and how packed it was, Minerva decided to stay outside.

With a bag full of various treats and ingrediants, Minerva started to trek back up to the castle. The snow was falling harshly now and Minerva was squinting to try and look where she was going. As she passed the Post Office, someone bumped into her side.

"Sorry!" She half-yelled over the wind. The person replied the same but his words stopped half-way through.

"Ms McGonagall!" Dumbledore grinned. Minerva smiled, even though her stomach sunk at the use of her surname. She smiled back and noticed that despite the thick snow and harsh wind, Dumbledore was standing there as if he didn't have a care in the world. Frowning, Minerva wondered why he wasn't peeking through the hem of his scarf and hat like she was.

Dumbledore reached out, grabbed Minerva's arm and pulled her close to him. It was as if Minerva stepped through a bubble: the snow lightened up and the wind stopped. "What in the world-"

"Magic, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore grinned, looking down at her through his spectacles. They were standing so close that if Minerva was the same height as him, their noses would he touching. "I would have thought you had already read about this spell already."

Minerva blushed as she tried not to slip out of the spell's weather protector. "I haven't got at weather spells yet, sir."

"So why are you out on a terrible day like this?" Dumbledore asked. Minerva held up her bag.

"Shopping," She replied. "I was about to head back up to the castle."

"The wind is supposed to lighten up in ten minutes, would you like to wait a bit until then?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'd rather not stand out here, sir. I have pools of water in my shoes."

Dumbledore laughed. "Then we'll go and have some butterbeers. My treat."

Minerva shook her head. "The Three Broomsticks is full!"

"I wasn't talking about the Three Broomsticks." Minerva frowned; surely he wasn't on about that terrible teashop around the corner?

Dumbledore tugged at her sleeve and led her down the opposite road. "Come on, I'll introduce you to my brother."

Minerva blinked. "Your brother?"

"Yes, Aberforth. The one who broke my nose."

"He lives in Hogsmeade?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes, owns the pub just around the corner." Dumbledore answered. Minerva frowned; that pub?

"You mean the terrible one that supposed to smell like a barnyard?"

"Yes, that one. Don't worry, Aberforth is fully aware about the smell. Thing is he doesn't smell much different." Dumbledore laughed. The two headed to a pub furthur away and into a quieter section of the village, walking so close to eachother you could have sworn they were sown together. Dumbledore pushed open the door and allowed Minerva to squeeze through first before waving his wand, making the bubble disappear, and followed her in.

The Hogs Head did smell like a barnyard. There was dust over the floorboards, cobwebs in the corner of the rooms. The tables were old and rickety, the stools at the bar not much better. There was no one there, despite the horrendus weather outside. Most people had taken refuge in either the Three Broomsticks or the terrible teashop.

Dumbledore closed the door and bellowed. "Aberforth!"

From a door behind the bar came a tall man, with auburn hair longer than Dumbledore's. They shared the same twinkling blue eyes although the other man was much more grumpier. "Albus." He grunted. Minerva felt her cheeks warm; it was strange for Dumbledore to be called by his first name.

"Aberforth," Dumbledore greeted.

Aberforth's azure eyes jumped from his brother to Minerva. "Who's this en?"

"This is Ms McGonagall, one of my students. She's just waiting for the snow to lighten up so I invited her for a butterbeer." Dumbledore introduced her. Minerva smiled shyly.

"Pleased to meet you, sir." She said quietly. Aberforth nodded to her.

"Usual for you, Albus?" He asked his brother. Dumbledore nodded before glancing down again to Minerva. "And what would you like?" He asked.

"A butterbeer please, sir." Minerva asked polietly.

The grumpy man eyed her carefully before turning and disappearing into the door from which he came. Minerva turned and followed Dumbledore over to a table in the corner of the room. A thin layer of dust was over the table and the chairs creaked once sat on but Minerva didn't mind. The place was warm as the fireplace roared and Aberforth soon joined them with a tray: one huge butterbeer, a mug of hot chocolate and a tumbler and bottle of Firewhiskey. Dumbledore wordlessly took the hot chocolate.

"Thank you." Minerva smiled as she took her butterbeer. In its place, she left two silver sickles. Aberforth eyed them before shaking his head.

"It's on the house." He replied. Minerva didn't move.

"I insist; I feel guilty if I don't pay." She shook her head and left the two sickles in their place.

Aberforth sighed and took the sickles, pocketing them in the back of his trousers. He sat down and poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey. "So, one of Albus' students eh?" He asked. Minerva nodded. "Must be one of his favourites, 'en. You don't bring any students 'ere with you."

Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "Ms McGonagall needs somewhere to take shelter while the snow lightens. She doesn't like busy places so I brought her here, where its quiet."

"Definetly his favourite." Aberforth grumbled before downing his tumbler full of Firewhiskey.

Minerva sipped her butterbeer; all the chill in her body was replaced by a surge of warmth. Her mood lifted and she felt less shy. She smirked at Aberforth's comment.

"So, how's school?" He asked both Minerva and Dumbledore.

"Well, I'm hoping to start Animagus training-"

"Eh?"

"Not this again." Dumbledore sighed but a forbidden smile crept onto his face. Aberforth stared at Minerva as if she had grown an extra head.

"Animagus training? What year you in?"

"Third year."

"Merlin's beard, _third year?" _Aberforth gasped. "No wonder Albus likes you. Animagus training in third year! Not even Albus did that."

"She is not starting Animagus training." Dumbledore cut in.

"I will be." Minerva said sternly. "Even if you don't teach me, I'll train myself."

Aberforth chuckled as he sipped his drink. "Bit o' fire in this one, Albus. Scottish flare. Who's your parents?"

"Isobel Ross. My father's a Muggle."

"Isobel Ross..wasn't she was the one who could do charms?" Aberforth asked Dumbledore.

"How do I know? I never taught her." He replied and blew on his hot chocolate. "I only started teaching at Hogwarts...seven years ago."

"I remember Isobel, the blonde with green eyes like yours. Yeah, she was the one who was good with charms. Came 'round at one point and offered to fix some things in the stable for me in return for some half-priced drinks. Clever girl, great with charms." Aberforth reminisced. "So you're her daughter. Never knew what happened to her after she left Hogwarts."

"Moved to Caithness with my father."

"Good for her," Aberforth muttered into his tumbler. "So, I take it you're good at Transfiguration."

"I'm okay..."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ms McGonagall is top in her year group."

"Thought so. Like Albus was. I take it you're like him then."

"I'm not old." Minerva blurted before she thought. She blushed heavily and instantly clamped her jaw shut, eyes wide. Aberforth wheezed heavily-it took Minerva a little while to realise he was laughing. "Sorry Professor." She said to Dumbledore.

Instead of being angry, embarrased or upset, Dumbledore chuckled. "No worries, Ms McGonagall, I'm fully aware of my age but mind you, I am still young."

Aberforth snorted into his Firewhiskey. Dumbledore softly glared at his brother. Aberforth fought off the smirk on his face and wiped the drops of Firewhiskey leaking from his lips. "So, what's this about Animagus training?"

"I want be an Animagus." Minerva spoke confidently.

"But I refuse to train her until she stops growing." Dumbledore finished. "She's been nagging me ever since December."

"Purposely." Minerva added.

Aberforth chuckled. His grumpy aura seemed to have vanished, or at least dampened. "He's right you know. Don't start the training until you're a lot older. You're still a shrimp of a girl, you've got to grow first before you go changing into things. A boy in my year, when I was at Hogwarts, he tried to make his unibrow go away. Thing is the spell backfired and his ears grew twice as big. The spell eventually wore in a month but his ears were still huge. If you were to changing into...I don't know, a monkey, and you do it wrong, you'd end up with a tail or fur on ya feet."

"Plus the training includes intense concentration and ability and control. You're still learning, Ms McGonagall." Dumbledore explained as he drank his hot chocolate.

"I can handle it. I've read everything in the library on Animagi. I can do it." Minerva insisted.

"Most adults can't do it, what makes you think that a fourteen year old can?" Aberforth questioned. "You may do when you're older, if you're skilled enough, but you ain't yet. Give it a few years and then try."

"I thought you were trying your patronus first." Dumbledore asked.

"I am practising."

"Patronus?" Aberforth perked. "And how's that going?"

"Not well-"

"Well there's more of a chance of producing a patronus rather than turning into a monkey." Aberforth concluded and finished his bottle of Firewhiskey.

Minerva sat in her seat, feeling defeated and frustrated. She glared out of the window, her cheeks burning. She was biting her tounge not to make some sharp reply to Aberforth and trying to not loose her temper. "The snow's lighting up - I'd better go." Minerva grumbled as she got up from her chair.

Seeing the girl's disheartened face, Aberforth sighed. "Look, once you stop growing, I'll make him train you." He bluntly pointed at Dumbledore with his thumb. Dumbledore coughed into his hot chocolate and stared at his brother. "I'll turn him into a goat if I have to but you'll get your training just not now."

Minerva's face brightened slightly. "Promise?"

"Swear on my goats I will." Aberforth replied.

A smile spread on Minerva's face. "Okay, I'll see you again. Goodbye, Mr Dumbledore. See you later, Professor." She said before leaving the pub with her bag of items, leaving an empty bottle of butterbeer behind.

"I'd train her anyway." Dumbledore told his brother. "You didn't need to make a promise."

"Gives me an excuse to turn you into a goat though." He replied. He held out a hand. "That hot chocolate's a sickle you know."

"I thought you said it was on the house."

"The girl's butterbeer was. Not yours." Aberforth replied. Dumbledore tutted as he dug out a sickle before handing it to his brother. Aberforth pocketed it, chuckling to himself. "I like that girl. She's bold."

"She's cheeky, but incredibly intelligent." Dumbledore found himself smiling. "She can be terribly shy at sometimes though. She was so quiet when I first met her and now, she's got the courage to call me old."

"You are old."

"I'm still in my prime!"

"Albus, please. You've started to ask me questions before answering it yourself."

"I have not!"

"The other day you were asking me if I prefered raspberries or strawberries before you finished: "It's strawberries." Aberforth stood up and headed over to the bar. "And I prefer raspberries, actually."

"Oh please, strawberries are much sweeter." he pulled a little paper bag from his pocket, opened it and offered it to Aberforth. "Lemon drop?"


End file.
